


Dead Wrong

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-02-11
Updated: 2000-02-11
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray and Benny have to come to terms with a change in their lives and more.





	Dead Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Dead Wrong

## Dead Wrong

by Manna LaDroit

Author's webpage: http://members.tripod.com/~mannaladroit

* * *

*Dead Wrong* 

by 

Manna La Droit 

Pairings: Fraser/Vecchio   
Rating: NC-17 for m/m sex   
Warnings/Notices: I use spoilers for all sorts of episodes, in my universe the series ended with "Flashback," and there's major hot Mountie love ahead. 

"I'm telling ya, Benny, it ain't here." 

"We've hardly made a proper search, Ray." 

Detective Vecchio rolled his eyes and his shoulders, regarding the office with ill favor. 

"We've made a more than proper search for a bomb considering the call came from someone who sounds like Tweety Bird." Ray flung his hands out, indicating the untidy state of files and papers on the desk, the unplugged phone, the peeling wallpaper. "This place is a dump. Even the city workers won't use it. There's nothing here worth blowing up, the dogs couldn't find anything, and I was ready for lunch two hours ago." 

Blue eyes calmly regarded him. "A few more minutes will make the difference between a lackadaisical search and a thorough one, Ray." 

"Benny, there is *nothing here!*" 

***BANG!***

Both men jumped. Ray's hand went to his gun. When Fraser looked up towards the source of the noise, little pieces of thin, white glass fell from the rim of his Stetson. 

The lightbulb above them had exploded: hardly a surprising event, considering how damp the ceiling was. 

Ray eased back into his casual stance as Benny took his hat off and shook it free of glass before setting it on the desk. He raked a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic gesture of frustration. 

"What is it, Benny?" 

The dark head shook slowly. "Something, Ray, just isn't right about this." 

"You don't say." 

Fraser frowned at him, and Vecchio thought for about the thousandth time in the last two years that the man, good friend though he was, was still the most annoying man in the world. It felt like Fraser was determined to make a case out of this, whether there were actually a case here to be made or not. 

But Ray had already stated his opinion on the matter, and right now, despite his usual MO, Ray wasn't in the mood to push it. Fraser had been wearing a strange face these days: half distraction and half...despair, he supposed. Frankly, it looked mostly like homesickness. Chicago was about to get serious about autumn, and Ray guessed Benny was missing the tundra even more than usual. It made the detective unwilling to give the guy more grief, however much he wanted lunch. 

Of course, if Ray were in a maudlin mood, he might start thinking about how much it sucked that the best friend and partner he'd ever had wanted most in life to be five thousand miles away from him, making igloos and learning new Inuit stories. He might also think about how he'd be willing to do just about anything to get the idiots due north to shake the sand out of their eyes and realize they were wasting prime police officer material and ship the guy back home. Sure, he'd miss the guy, and his career would probably suffer quite a bit too, but it'd be worth it to know Benny was happy. Hell, they could write each other, couldn't they? 

Anyway, compared to all that, hanging around this trash heap for a few more minutes wasn't really that big a deal. 

"Is something wrong, Ray?" 

"What? Nah. You done yet, Fraser?" 

The Mountie sighed, pulling down just slightly on his brown uniform jacket, making sure everything was smoothly in its place, then reached for his hat. 

His fingers froze an inch from the rim. 

"Did you hear that, Ray?" 

But the detective already had his handgun out. 

Someone was singing: an odd, tinny, flat little voice, a little like Tweety Bird. 

*Rockaby baby, in the tree-top.  
When the wind blows the cradle will rock.* 

The two men edged out of the office, looking down the rows of evacuated cubicles. A fluorescent light was flickering. The carpet was filthy. 

*When the bough breaks the cradle will fall.* 

Ray opened the drawer with the tape recorder, and both of them saw it was over-sized. 

*And down will come baby...* 

"Benny!" They were running then, flying down the corridor, side by side. 

*...cradle and all.* 

The explosion happened in stages, first rippling out from the recorder's black case, then ignition and expansion from the explosives hidden in the desk itself, rippling out and out with the unfolding of each blue-orange petal. The ceiling shattered, the floor buckled, and the deafening roar of it burned the thick air to black ash. 

The men ran. Fraser and Vecchio kept their eyes on the corridor ahead, on the door, and finally on the patch of sky through that charred haze, making sure the other stayed by his side, making sure their legs carried them through and out. 

And then they were through and out, bursting from the embers of the building, all but soaring over the black asphalt of the parking lot, shouting now at the crowd of dislocated workers to move back, move away from the building as it erupted and sank, blasted and showered down all around them in burning hailstones. 

They sought cover behind the black truck of the bomb squad, gasping, looking each other over, checking for smoke or fire or holes in Ray's gray suit or Benny's perfect Mountie red tunic, grinning even as they choked and wheezed and made sure they both had all their fingers and toes. 

And then, slowly, the smiles disappeared. They stared at each other, eyes puzzled. 

"Benny?" Ray finally asked. "Where did the dress reds come from? You were wearing the brown uniform." 

But Fraser was shaking his head, slowly. "You were wearing your blue suit, Ray, not the dark gray. And...isn't that your favorite silk shirt?" 

Ray looked down, as did Benny, completely lost for an explanation. The soft green *was* his favorite silk shirt. And this was his favorite suit, too. 

And then even as he was staring down at himself, Ray realized he wasn't panting, and that his ears weren't ringing from the blast. He wasn't even dusty. In fact, for the first time ever, he was just as spotless as Benny. 

He looked up and met wide blue eyes. His own, he supposed, betrayed his fear more clearly. 

Benny's mouth opened, working slightly for several seconds before words actually came out. 

"I'm glad Diefenbaker wasn't with us." 

"Oh, God. Benny." 

They stared at each other some more, then a man erupted out of Fraser's stomach. 

Ray screamed and fell back, then screamed again when another man came out of his own body. But it wasn't the sight that caused his fear this time; it was the sickening sensation of it -- of something passing through his body, pushing the atoms and essence out of alignment, shoving through him like gloopy ice, formless and sharp as knives. 

And it was then, as Ray was skipping away from the man -- a member of the bomb squad, still in his black protective gear -- that Ray realized what was happening. 

"God, Benny. They're walking through us!" 

"So it would appear, Ray," Benny's unhappy voice replied. "The sensation is extraordinarily unpleasant." 

They met back up and moved towards the wall of the shops across the street from the burning office building, dodging people and things looming around them. 

"We're dead, aren't we, Benny?" 

The blue eyes turned with his to the sight of the fire, the blackened skeleton of the building, the people running and screaming, shuffling, calling. 

"Lieu!" Ray ran forward suddenly towards Harding Welsh as the man stepped from his car. "Welsh! Sir!" 

But the man didn't see him, and Ray had to dodge two more men and a woman cop before he reached Welsh's car. By then, the lieutenant had moved into the thick of the crowd. 

"Where's Vecchio?" Welsh shouted. "Where's Fraser?" 

"Oh, God." Ray felt something then -- a cold brush at his chest: his crucifix, a comforting weight...usually. 

"Ray?" 

He turned to Benny's voice, Benny's face, the awfulness of it making its slow way into his brain...or at least into his mind. He supposed he didn't really have a brain anymore. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time for that. 

"God, Benny. Ma. What's Ma going to say?" 

The world folded in on itself, and it felt even worse than a SWAT team repelling through his innards. Ray found himself staring into Benny's face because it was the only thing not dark and twisted up. Fraser's eyes stared back at him, Ray felt better about being afraid, because Benny felt that way too, and whatever the hell -- oh, better not think that word right now -- whatever was happening, they were going to deal with it together, and that was better than nothing, if you thought about it. 

A woman was crying. They heard her in the darkness, but Ray still knew who she was. 

"Ma?" 

The black became lines, and filled in with slow color. A woman was kneeling in prayer, her words whispered between small cries. A priest sat beside her, holding her hand, and there were others in the church, far off, giving this woman privacy. 

"Aw, Ma." Ray's voice was full of apology, sympathy and shame. 

Fraser was at his side as he approached her. Ray held out his hands, took them back, stared with eyes larger than Fraser had ever seen in that expressive face. 

"Ma? God, I'm sorry, Ma." 

"It's not your fault, Ray." 

Vecchio rounded on him, his voice hushed only because they were in church...sort of. "It was too my fault, Benny! I should have figured out it was a trap. I should have gotten us out of there. Now you're dead and I'm dead and we both look like amateurs!" 

"Raymondo," Mrs. Vecchio sobbed. 

"Awww!" Ray wound up on his knees by his mother. "Ma? Ma! I'm right here, Ma! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you and Frannie and Maria! I mean, you got my pension now, but..." Fraser watched Ray's hands flutter in frustration, then realized with shock the man was still trying to make things right, even though he was dead. 

"You gotta talk to Welsh about it," Ray was explaining now. "He'll make sure the funeral's taken care of, and then there'll be payments once a month, but you gotta keep on top of them, because --" 

"Ray." 

"...they'll stiff you, and the family will need every cent. Damn, but I'm sorry it's not more. Fifteen years on the force --" 

"Ray!" 

"What?" Ray's eyes glared at him while his mother wept into her handkerchief. 

"She can't hear you, Ray." 

Ray wanted to protest. Every line of his body made that clear, even within the folds of his loosely, if impeccably, tailored suit. 

"You have to be strong for this," the priest said, and only then did Ray realize he knew the man. 

"You think maybe Father Behan could hear us, Benny?" 

"How would he be able to do that, Ray?" 

"I don't know! But he's a priest, right? They got...you know...a special line on this sort of stuff." 

Benny made a worried face. 

"What?" 

The Mountie cleared his throat apologetically. "Given the Catholic church's view on conversing with spirits, Ray, it's quite possible he would not welcome a discussion with us. In fact, he might respond with a ritual that could have...unpleasant repercussions." 

Ray stood up, blinking. "Exorcism, huh? I hadn't thought of that one." 

Mrs. Vecchio sniffed, then sobbed harder. Ray's eyes filled with sorrow. "Well, who could hear us, then? We could get a message to her." 

Fraser looked at his friend in concern, then refrained from saying that there was little they could say to comfort Mrs. Vecchio, and concentrated. 

"Well, perhaps..." 

The world folded in on itself. This time, the two men -- or ex-men -- moved towards each other, willing to allow the universe to go insane, but unwilling to be parted by that same universe. When the darkness became lines, then color once again, they were standing in Ray's house. Francesca was sleeping on the sofa in her clothes, only her shoes cast off to the floor. It was obvious from her red, puffy face that she had been crying. 

"Aw, Frannie!" Ray whined. 

Fraser, however, was looking at the white-gray mound of fur stretched over the woman's admittedly shapely legs. 

"Diefenbaker!" 

Did the wolf twitch just slightly in his sleep? 

"Diefenbaker!" 

Nothing this time. 

"He's deaf, right?" Ray said. "Maybe we gotta wait for him to wake up on his own." 

Fraser obviously wanted to debate that. It was clear in every line of his body, for all that he was holding himself at his usual stiff-backed attention. 

Ray turned to his sister, then crouched down to whisper in her ear. "I'm sorry, Frannie. I didn't see it in time." 

"Ray," Fraser said gently, "neither of us saw it. How could we? The inspection team, including the dogs, went through the area thoroughly, and they found nothing." 

Ray stood up with a snarl. "Don't hand me that! You're the one who wanted to keep looking!" 

"So it follows, doesn't it, that I should have found the bomb? But I didn't, and now we're dead, and I think we should probably start concentrating on that." 

Ray leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. "Concentrate on what? Being dead?" He threw his hands in the air. "I don't think lack of concentration's going to change the situation, Benny." 

"Probably not, Ray. But there may be something we can do, even in this state, to help find our killers." At a sudden thought, Fraser looked around. 

Ray scowled harder. "What?" 

Fraser looked abruptly innocent. "What?" 

Ray erupted. "Don't start that with me! We're dead! I'm not putting up with that Mr. Innocent Act for all eternity! You got that?" 

Fraser backed off a pace, narrowly avoiding bumping into -- or perhaps bumping through -- the coffee table. "I was only wondering if perhaps my father would appear, Ray." 

In an instant Vecchio went from anger to anxiety, looking around the room as the blood drained from his face. "My God, you're right. They can come get us now, can't they?" 

"'Get us,' Ray?" 

Ray got irritated now, though the anxiety remained. "Oh, yeah. It's all very well for you. You got your super-Mountie-original father here, and your mother too. I bet she's waiting for you on the other side with hot chocolate and warm hugs. And probably all the dead Mounties in the history of Canada will throw you a party and tell you how wonderful you were. But some of us ain't got it so good, you know? I mean, if my old man shows up, we'll both know I'm not heading to heaven with you." 

When Fraser didn't point out that his friend was being silly, Ray looked at him carefully. The blueness of the eyes that met him made the man look like he was glowing from inside in the dim room. 

"My mother?" Fraser asked quietly, despite the hope booming through the words. "Do you think so, Ray?" 

The tall, lean man seemed to wilt slightly, but his eyes were warm and tender. "Why not, Benny? I sure hope so." 

Fraser smiled back into those eyes a moment, then looked around the dim room. With a sudden frown, the Mountie went to the window. 

"Ray." 

"Yeah?" 

"It's morning." 

Ray frowned to match him as he joined his friend at the window. "But it was just...God, this is creepy." 

"We seem to be moving forward in time," Fraser mused. "Perhaps it occurs when we change locations. Since we seem to have control over our movements through space, perhaps we can learn to control our movements through time as well." 

"Fraser, being suddenly taken to some place because I'm thinking about it isn't my idea of having control over something." 

"Well, it's a start, Ray. We may in time learn how to control things better." 

Ray grunted. "It still sucks." 

Fraser was silent so pointedly Vecchio turned to him with impatience, preparing himself for the pep talk. 

Instead, Benny's eyes were almost haunted. 

"What?" Ray demanded, though his tone wasn't as harsh as he'd wanted. 

"My father told me, when he came back those first times, that he didn't know how it worked, that he had no idea whether he were real or just part of my mind. I dismissed his evident ignorance out of hand, deciding that either he was concealing from me some great truth about the afterlife, or that he was, in fact, only a projection of my own thoughts and therefore knew nothing about the afterlife. 

"Now, however, it seems clear that he was simply being honest with me. There's no way to understand the bylaws of this existence." Fraser's eyes glinted with rare frustration. "Are we being kept here while we solve our own murders, or is this a temporary period of adjustment, a time when we're allowed to say goodbye to our loved ones?" 

Ray nodded. "Are we supposed to walk the Earth until Judgment Day, or do the white angel guys come soon and show us our new digs? Are we in Purgatory, or does everyone just get to hang around until they're ready to go on?" 

"Exactly, Ray." Fraser tugged at his tunic. "I must confess as well that I have no desire to spend eternity in my uniform." 

"Yeah, yeah," Ray said, though the tone expressed a sympathy lacking in actual words. "It itches." 

"That it does...or rather..." Fraser tugged at the tunic again, his eyes looking down in concern. "Or rather, it did." 

Ray looked at him in surprise. "Really? The itch is gone? Well, maybe that's a benefit, you know, like bad things don't get to follow us." 

"Perhaps." Fraser's tone was openly doubtful. He walked to the nearest wall and ran his hands over its surface, then he crouched and stroked the carpet. 

"What are you doing, Fraser?" 

"I can barely discern a difference in the texture between the wall and the carpet, Ray. My senses seem to have become quite dulled." 

Ray stroked the velvet seatback near his, then ran a hand over his shorn head. Frowning, he also tried the wall and the carpet. "Damn, you're right. I can tell there's a difference, but I can't really *feel* it." He shivered and crossed his arms. "Creepy." 

"Our hearing and eyesight would seem to be unaffected, though I doubt we could actually taste anything." Fraser winced. "In fact, I recall my father complaining that my French fries had no taste." 

"Your father's ghost ate your French fries?" Ray asked, eyes wide. "Ha! If mine had ever tried that I'd have screamed murder!" 

Fraser stared at him. 

"What?" Ray asked, fighting the urge to check his face for smudges. 

Fraser's voice was pure wonderment. "Your father's ghost appeared to you as well, Ray?" 

Vecchio shrugged stiffly. "Well, sometimes, Benny. Do we have to talk about it?" 

"I should think any insight we could gain would be welcome at this time, Ray. Besides, it would seem likely that one or both of our fathers will, in fact, appear soon, and I would like to be prepared for any contingency." 

Ray shrugged again. "I dunno, Benny. Who says they weren't just figments anyway, you know?" 

Now Fraser looked uncomfortable. "Well, I did have some evidence that others besides myself saw my father's spirit." 

Ray looked quite rocked at that. "What sort of evidence?" 

"Well, Buck Frobisher told me, when we were on the train for the Musical Ride, that he could see my father. In fact, the two of them seemed to carry on somewhat extensive conversations." 

Ray scratched his cheek, though it was obviously a gesture, not a response to stimulus. "You sure? I thought he was just talking to himself." 

"And then it would also seem that he appeared to Gerard." 

Ray lost his pose. "What?" 

Fraser nodded, looking somewhat chagrinned. "Do you remember when he fell from the window and landed on the car? Well, I believe he fell because my father appeared to him and offered him assistance. When Gerard tried to take it, of course, my father had no hand to help him with, and so the man fell." 

"I see," Ray said. A moment of silence followed, and then came the sound of a suppressed snicker. 

Fraser stared at his friend in astonishment. "Ray!" 

The detective regarded the Mountie innocently for several seconds, then burst into laughter. 

"Ray!" 

Between gafaws, Ray managed to force out, "I would have paid money to see that! He sticks out his hand, but he doesn't have a hand! I bet Gerard felt like a monkey after that one! AHAHAHA!" 

Fraser glared at the man for several seconds himself before a smile cracked his face, and then a laugh cracked the smile. 

Diefenbaker *woofed* happily, his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging. 

"HAHAHAHA!" said Ray and Fraser. 

"Woof! Woof!" 

"Diefenbaker?" Frannie asked, her voice husky from crying. "Something wrong, boy?" 

"Dief!" 

"Frannie!" 

Only the wolf responded to the call, however, leaping from the couch as the woman watched in confusion. One bound brought Diefenbaker to Fraser's side, where, however, the creature sat abruptly and emitted a faint whine. 

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Frannie asked. "Do you need to go out?" 

"Diefenbaker," Fraser explained calmly, crouching down to look into his wolf's eyes. "I know this is upsetting for you, but you have no idea how pleased I am that you can see me." 

The wolf whined again, but sounded somewhat more encouraged. 

"Can you see me too, Dief?" Ray asked. 

"Woof!" 

"All right, hang on." Frannie got up from the couch, her body sagging dispiritedly. "I need to get going, though, so if I let you out you have to stay around the house, all right? Maria should be back soon, and she'll let you back in." Frannie had reached the front door and opened it even as she yawned and mumbled to herself, "I wonder if there's any coffee left." 

"Go on outside, Dief. Ray and I will follow you," Fraser instructed, and indeed the men made it outside without having to walk through any doors or walls before Frannie shut the house up behind them. Ray stared at the door a long moment, wanting to reach through it to his sister. 

"Aw, Frannie," he whispered. 

Dief whined again. 

"Yes, I'm sorry that I'm dead, Diefenbaker," Fraser began. "I assure you that it wasn't my intention, nor Ray's." 

"Woof!" 

"Yes, I realize you're confused, and you're probably feeling somewhat guilty for not having been there. But you had promised Willie that you would accompany him to the game, and I know he was very much looking forward to having you there." 

"Woof!" 

"Well, I have to admit that I am glad you were spared." 

The wolf whined again. 

Fraser shook his head. "No, when my will is read, the instructions will clearly dictate that you will be returned to your homeland. I would never have abandoned you here in Chicago." 

Dief's next "woof" sounded somewhat scornful. 

"Well, that was a highly specialized circumstance," Fraser said reproachfully. 

"What?" Ray asked. 

Benny ducked his head slightly. "Victoria." 

Ray's face went carefully blank, then he nodded. "Well, I would have taken him back home, I guess, if that's what you wanted." 

Fraser stood. "Thank you, Ray." 

Vecchio gave another stiff shrug, and the Mountie turned back to his wolf. 

"Now, Diefenbaker, before you leave, we could use your help, if you're willing." 

"Woof!" 

Fraser smiled with approval. "I thought as much. We need to examine the crime scene, but Ray and I both seem to be suffering from a lack of sensory acuity. Your nose would be invaluable to us." 

"Woof!" 

"Yes, and your other skills as well. However, I do believe you have now stooped to fishing for compliments. Just because I've lost my mortality doesn't mean I now intend to indulge you." 

"Oh, lighten up, Fraser! This has got to be hard on him!" 

"I can't have him use this as an excuse to lose even more of his edge, Ray. After all, he'll soon be returning to his feral existence and will need his wits about him." 

Ray reached into his pocket, frowned, and then pulled out his empty hand with a disappointed sigh. 

"Ray?" 

"I was trying to get him a donut," Ray said. 

Fraser frowned at him. "That seems unlikely." 

"Well, didn't you see that episode of *Magnum?* Magnum was dead, and his old friend was dead too and they could just make donuts and stuff appear by wishing for them." 

"That seems quite a frivolous depiction of eternity, Ray." 

"'Time has no meaning with infinity and jelly donuts,' Fraser." 

Fraser's response would remain unspoken, for Frannie came out the door then, dressed in (for her) subdued clothing. With a nod to Dief, she climbed into her car and drove down the road. Ray's sad eyes followed until she was out of sight. 

Dief barked in sympathy, then again to command attention. 

"Yes, that's true," Fraser noted. "Ray, Diefenbaker has quite a bit of ground to cover to reach the site our...of the explosion. It will take him some time to reach --" 

"Fraser, if you think your wolf hasn't figured out some way to bum rides wherever he wants to go by now, you're living in dreamland." 

"Now, Ray. I'm sure that Diefenbaker understands that the people of this community who make their living from transportation services wouldn't...Oh, you're probably right." Fraser threw up his hands in surrender. 

Ray was stunned. "Benny?" 

"Oh, we're dead! I'm tired of pretending that he doesn't do whatever he wants to do!" 

Dief's whine was pitiful in the extreme. 

"No." Fraser was adamant, his arms crossed and his back stiff. "If you wanted me to continue to have faith in your sense of justice and morality, then you shouldn't have made it clear that my faith was so misplaced." 

Dief's entire body seemed to droop. 

"Fraser," Ray said, scowling, "we're trying to get him to help us, remember?" 

"I've counted on Diefenbaker's help, Ray, but I've never bribed him for it, anymore than I've ever bribed you for it...anymore, in fact, than you've ever bribed me. It's something about our friendship that I've treasured." 

"Fraser!" Ray snapped, shifting uneasily. "Let's not get all complicated here." 

"Why not?" 

"Just 'cause we're dead doesn't mean we gotta get all weird." 

"On the contrary, Ray. I believe that we are going to have to make some dramatic adjustments." 

"Why?" Ray's hands were curling up. 

"Because we're dead, Ray. Everything has changed." 

Ray snorted. "Doesn't look like much has changed to me. I'm still trying to catch a killer. Dief still doesn't like being told he's bad. You're still the most annoying man in the world." 

"Well, I believe we're no longer quite 'in the world,' Ray." 

Vecchio turned up his palms, as though making a "case closed" gesture before the jury. He turned to the wolf. "It was the office building at 2387 Mapp Street. You know the one, by the Burger King and across from the adult bookstore?" 

Dief yapped. Fraser sighed. 

"Good boy. Now, I don't think Fraser and I can keep up with you, so we'll meet you there, okay?" 

Another yap, a look at Fraser for confirmation, then the wolf whined, turned, and ran down the street. 

"What did he say?" Ray asked. 

"I believe he asked us to be careful." 

Ray shrugged. "Little late for that." 

Together, they watched Diefenbaker come to a sudden halt on the corner. Not many minutes went by before a bus stopped, opened its doors, and allowed the wolf inside. 

And Benny sighed. 

@@@ 

One of the more troublesome aspects of arson inspection is that fires stink. 

They stink so badly, in fact, that they tend to erase more than just the physical evidence of the crime, but also the precious odors as well. Everything tends to register to the nose simply as "burnt." This is particularly true when gasoline or explosives are used to start the fire, or when there are chemicals such as cleaning solution or inks present in the ruins. And this is all aggravated by wind-blown ashes, fire-hose water and foam, and permeation from broken gas lines. 

Diefenbaker tried not to let the uniform stench defeat him, turning over everything within his power, sniffing the burned-out shell of a building from back to front, side to side. 

"Pity the arson squad wasn't this thorough," Ray griped, standing with Fraser among the blackened wood and melted steel. "I mean, what? They're done?" 

The Mountie (so to speak) looked about the remains of the building, noting that while yellow tape warned away the literate, there was no guard, nor sign of any on-going investigation. From the afternoon sidewalk bustle behind them, any civilian would find it a simple matter to sift through the bomb site at will. 

Fraser determined that Diefenbaker would be busy for some time, and so turned back to the street to scan for a newspaper machine. 

And then he was standing in front of the machine, Ray at his side. 

"Hey," Vecchio complained, "warn a guy first." 

"Sorry, Ray. I suppose I still haven't gotten the hang of this." 

Ray shrugged, no doubt thinking as Fraser was of the trip they had made from the house, staring at each other and trying to get to the right place and time to meet Diefenbaker at the scene even though they had no real idea of what they were doing. 

Had his father found the afterlife this confusing, Fraser wondered? Perhaps that was why it had taken him so many months to appear to him, though Fraser had often wondered if the Christmas season hadn't also played a role. 

"Four days," Ray muttered. 

"What?" 

"It's been four days since we died," Ray said, looking at him sharply. "Didn't you come over here to see the date on the paper?" 

"Oh." Fraser blinked. "Yes." 

"You all right, Fraser?" 

"I'm *dead,* Ray!" 

Large green eyes stared at him, and for once in his...existence, Fraser didn't tamp down the irritation rising his chest. 

"Ray, could you please explain to me why you're not more bothered by the fact that we're existing as spirits? I mean --" Fraser threw out his hands, indicating the bright sidewalk and the people who walked past, not seeing them, the blackened building that four days ago had taken the lives of two police officers, the sunlight that could no longer burn their skin, the air they no longer actually breathed. "We're --" 

"Dead. Yes. I have figured that one out, Fraser." Ray's voice softened. "It happens, Benny, and it happened to us...and I don't know about you, but I'm thinking it's working out pretty well, huh? I mean, we're still here, and soon...when it's time..." 

"What?" Fraser looked at him in near-awe. "Do you know what will happen next, Ray?" 

The Italian Catholic smiled. "Well, not to get too mystical here, or nothing, but God's going to take us where He wants us to be, and it's looking like we'll be there together, right? So there's nothing more to worry about, really. I figure, we're getting the chance here to fix things up, bring our killer to justice, say goodbye. Then -- Heaven." 

"Heaven?" Fraser pronounced the word as though it were something new in Russian. 

"Yeah. You, me, eternity..." Ray smiled and looked away. "Not too bad. And we'll get to see your folks, like we said, and you know what? We might meet John Wayne!" 

Fraser couldn't help smiling, or thinking about the chance of meeting Shakespeare or Newton, nor could he help instinctively dismissing this easy optimism. 

"Surely," he murmured. "It can't just be..." 

"What?" 

"So...normal." 

"Why not?" Ray looked around them, and Fraser was struck almost physically by the peace in those green eyes. "Who says dying has to be all strange and freaky? Why can't it just be walking along with your best friend to a door, or maybe a hall, and just knowing you're going on to the next thing? I mean, we lived good lives, didn't we? We tried to help people out. You were practically a saint, and I tried my best to keep up. Why shouldn't we get the brass ring?" 

"I never knew," Fraser said softly. If they weren't dead, Ray wondered if he'd have heard those murmured words at all. 

"Knew what?" 

Blue eyes pierced him. "That you weren't afraid of death." 

Ray shrugged. "I guess I wasn't, not really." He laughed, obviously at himself. "More afraid of pain, I guess." 

"I was terrified of dying," Fraser confessed. "I suppose I still am. But...it's good, Ray." He tried to smile again. "It's good that you're here with me." 

Ray reached up and patted him on the shoulder. Both of them registered the almost non-feeling of the contact. Both were also relieved that Ray's hand didn't simply pass through him. 

"It'll be all right, Benny. After all, when it comes to pain, you're about the most fearless there is, and we all gotta be afraid of something." 

Fraser took off his hat, ran his hands over the brim, and put it back on. 

"Thank you, Ray." 

Diefenbaker barked, his tail wagging furiously. 

Benny and Ray stood before the wolf, who whined slightly in confusion, then shook himself and nosed the dirt at his paws. 

Fraser squatted down and pushed the dirt around a bit, then dug out a small piece of blue plastic. Ray knelt by him and together they made out the lines of letters: Y-S-C-H. 

"This is from the tape recorder," Fraser said. 

"I didn't get a good look at it," Ray confessed, "except to see that it was bigger than it should be." 

"Perhaps to insulate the explosives inside," Fraser mused. 

"Maybe. But look at this plastic..." Ray frowned. "I've seen this somewhere be --" 

**"RAY!"**

Vecchio startled slightly, then blinked. The world had almost begun to shift and darken. 

"You were starting to fade," Fraser explained. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I just think I know where we need to go next." 

Benny nodded, and the two of them stood up together. 

"Fraser," Ray said, "how can you hold that thing, anyway?" 

Fraser's eyebrows went up, and together they looked down at the ground...which was, in fact, undisturbed. Fraser fingered the plastic and kicked at the dirt. A little cloud of ash came up, then settled, and everything looked exactly the same. 

"It would appear that I'm actually only holding a sort of image of the artifact." 

"I guess the rules are gonna confuse us for a while, Fraser." Ray shrugged. "At least we can take it with us." 

Fraser nodded and took a deep, steadying breath...which reminded him that he couldn't actually breathe and thus defeated its own purpose. He tried clenching his empty hand instead, and looked down. 

"Diefenbaker, this was excellent work." The wolf preened. "Now, Ray and I have to move quickly on this before the trail gets too cold. You need to return to Ray's house before they get worried about you." 

The wolf's tail drooped. 

"We'll see you tonight," Ray said. "We'll tell you what we find out." 

"Woof!" The tail wagged, then the wolf spotted his bus and took off. 

Fraser turned to Ray's face and waited as his friend brought them to an electronics store. They compared the plastic piece to every tape recorder there, then went on to the next store, and then the next. 

"This isn't working," Ray announced in frustration at 5:15 PM. Fraser noticed with relief that his time sense hadn't deserted him in death. 

They looked around the electronics department at Sears, rows of black boxes with little dials and knobs and glowing faces. A large man in a T-shirt was standing before a larger TV screen, watching the tape of a football game. A woman with big hair stood with her back to the man, yet it was obvious they were together. She was looking at a smaller, cheaper set. Fraser could almost feel the argument rising up between them. 

And yet how many years had they been married? As thick as the tension, there was love. She looked after her husband. She was worried about their finances. He wanted a fancy TV -- yes, for the game, but also for her, for the house he made for her. 

"Benny!" 

Fraser shook himself. "Yes, Ray?" 

Vecchio glared at him a moment, then let it go. "I said, I know I've seen this thing before." 

"What thing?" 

"The plastic, Fraser! It's tickling my brain something awful." 

"Ray, we're dead." 

"Oh, don't start that again!" 

"I look back over my life, and I see service and duty, and yet all that matters is the people I loved, and those who loved me." 

"Aw, Benny." Ray's eyes were full of both pity and fear. "Don't do this to yourself." 

"My mother, my father, my grandparents, Dief, Victoria...almost Victoria, actually. You." 

"What are you talking about? Half the women in Chicago are in love with you. Besides, there were others, right? Women before Victoria." 

Fraser shook his head. "Not that I loved, not who loved me...being lusted after -- yes, I do know the term, Ray -- isn't nearly the same." Blue eyes regarded him. "You're much richer than I, Ray." 

"What, because I got a big family? Besides, Ma loves you, you know. She thinks...thought of you as her son too. And Frannie would have loved the real you, you know, if you'd loved her back." 

"She never looked past my face, Ray, even when...I tried to let her see." 

"You did?" Ray looked impressed. "That was really great of you, Benny. I never thought, you know, that you'd give her a chance." 

Fraser seemed to be readying himself for something. "Ray, that path \-- the path your sister offered wasn't what I wanted with my life. I respected her desire for a husband, a family, children, but I don't --" 

"Kids!" Ray shouted. "That's it!" 

The world folded around them, darkened, brightened, colored, steadied. They were standing in the middle of the toy department. 

Ray jogged down the aisle, Fraser following almost blindly. 

"Bring it here, Benny!" Ray called. "See? I *knew* I had seen it before!" 

Fraser looked at the big blue plastic tape recorder. On the side, the letters were molded and painted yellow: P-L-A-Y-S-C-H-O-O-L. 

"A child's tape recorder," the Mountie murmured. 

"Yeah, a stupid kiddie toy. Goes along with the whole Tweety Bird thing, I'm thinking." 

"But why? Why put the explosives in a child's tape recorder? There would be more room for explosives and padding in a traditional ghetto blaster." 

"You're spouting all sorts of new words, Fraser," Ray accused. "I'm beginning to suspect your whole naive act is just one big put-on." 

But Fraser didn't answer. He knew who had to be behind this now, and he knew that Ray knew. It was clear there in Ray's eyes when you knew what to look for. 

"There was nothing you could have done, Ray. Carver, I'm sure, bears just as much grudge against me personally now as he does you." 

"It doesn't have to be Carver," Ray said desperately. "Just because it's a child's toy doesn't mean it was Carver." 

But the world folded, and a man was laughing. 

They were in a prison cell. Carver was sitting on his bunk, a little smile on his face. Then he was laughing again, a strange sort of giggle that made his eyes shine. 

"Rockabye baby in the treetop." Tweety Bird, right down to the lisp. 

"You bastard," Ray spat. 

Carver laughed. 

The world folded, and became ice. 

Ray blinked his eyes clear and looked around. There was nothing anywhere but snow and some snow-covered trees with snow-covered mountains in the distance. It was silent as a church, commanding as a crucifix in the bright sun. He could not smell the air, but he knew it was clean and sharp. 

"I'm sorry, Ray." Fraser stood next to him, the bright red so clear against the snow. "But I had to get out of there." 

"You had to get me out of there, you mean." Ray walked over the snow which didn't crunch or allow him to leave footprints. "I got us killed." 

"Ray, damnit. Don't say that!" 

Ray twirled around, eyes enormous. "You -- you swore!" 

"And you're blaming yourself for something that isn't your fault. You did everything right, Ray. Carver...was just lucky. And with Diefenbaker's help, we'll see that his crimes are brought out in the open." 

"And what? He'll get a couple more life sentences on top of the ones he has now? God, Benny, if I'd just seen through the whole mess in the beginning..." 

"You would still have found a way to turn him in, Ray, and then he would have still fixated on you, and he would still have found some way to..." Fraser's eyes went distant. 

"What?" 

"Ray, how did Carver reach us from prison?" 

Ray shrugged. "Hit man." 

"But this was no ordinary hit, Ray. The tape, the explosives, the careful timing to make sure only you and I were in the building: this murder took a great deal of planning and care." 

Now Ray's eyes were no longer seeing the world around them. Fraser waited patiently for his friend to speak. 

"Joe Parsons, over at the 23rd. He died about...six months ago. He was shot, execution-style, his hands wrapped up in twine. I heard they ran the MO, and it matched this guy...Laster...but Laster was in prison. Parsons had put him there." Ray looked sick. "God, Benny, is that it?" 

Fraser was going to ask, then realized he knew where Ray was going with this. "You think we're not here to solve our murder, but to discover the *means* of our murder." 

"Someone out there is offering custom-made hits for prisoners. Maybe they're even targeting cops." Ray began to think, then everything sort of froze when he dimly felt Benny's hand on his shoulder. 

"Ray...could we please just rest for a little while first? Just for an hour or so?" 

"Sure, Benny. Are you tired?" 

Fraser looked at him a moment, then shook his head and removed his Stetson to smooth back his hair. A fallen log nearby served as a chair, and after a few moments Ray joined him. Together they looked over the Canadian wilderness and for the first five minutes it took everything Vecchio had not to jump up and scream at Fraser to get the lead out. 

But the five minutes after that were better, and the next five better still. Finally, Ray sighed and allowed himself to relax, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. It was odd to think about "muscles" now, or bones or blood or skin; it was actually all gone now, but habits seemed to be hard even for the dead to break. 

Drawing in a breath to share this modest insight with his friend, Ray wound up instead staring with alarm at the grief on Fraser's face. 

"Benny?" 

"I need to tell you something, Ray." 

Vecchio pulled a face. "And I'm guessing I'm not going to like it." 

Fraser looked even more miserable. "No, you're not. I'm so sorry, Ray." 

"Don't be apologizing for something you haven't even done yet! I'm sure whatever it is it isn't that bad. After all, we're dead, right? So what can you tell me that -- Oh my God!" Ray was on his feet. "You slept with my sister, didn't you?" 

Fraser looked at him blankly, then seemed offended. "No, I didn't! How can you think that?" 

"How can I think that?" Ray sputtered. "How can I -- you wouldn't tell me!" 

"I shouldn't have needed to tell you!" Fraser was standing now as well. "You should know me well enough to know I would never just use your sister like that!" 

Ray blinked, his anger gone even more suddenly than it had come on. 

"Well, what is it, then?" 

Just as quickly, Fraser returned to looking afraid. His jaw worked a while before sound came out. "I hope, after this, more than anything,, Ray, I hope we can still be friends." 

Ray waved that off. "Of course we're still going to be friends. Now, get it off your chest, then we'll go catch some bad guys from beyond the grave." 

"I had meant to tell you before, Ray." Fraser bit his lip and thumbed his eyebrow at the same time. "I meant to tell you when there was still something that just perhaps we could do about it...provided you would still speak to me, of course, and provided that I could be so fortunate, although I had little reason to hope --" 

"Fraser!" 

"I'm in love with you, Ray." 

Ray blinked, thought for a long moment, then shook his head. 

"I think I'm getting a little senile in my death, Fraser. You wanna run that one by me again?" 

"I didn't mean for it to happen, Ray." 

"You're in love with me." 

Fraser couldn't tell if that were a statement or a question, and so remained silent. 

"Since when?" 

Fraser cleared his throat. "Well, I...as you know, Ray, I have loved you as my best friend for years." 

"But that ain't what we're talking about here, is it?" Ray's voice was glum. Benny tried to take some encouragement from the lack of panic and outrage. 

"No. I suppose I realized I wanted...more from our relationship..." Ray squirmed. "...when we were dealing with the Bolt Brothers." 

"The bomb?" Ray was looking at him like he was crazy, but there was still no anger or disgust in those green eyes. Fraser's legs -- in whatever state they could be said to exist -- felt weak, and he sat once again on the fallen tree. 

"I had been spending the days leading up to the trial trying hard not to think about my kiss with Inspector Thatcher," he began. 

"You kissed the Dragon Lady on the train!" Ray crowed happily, looking exactly like he had when he'd once congratulated Fraser on having "a woman in there." "I knew it!" 

"Yes, Ray, though it's only because we're dead that I can speak of it." 

Ray turned thoughtful. "Yeah, you're giving away all your secrets now." His half-smile vanished as he realized what one of those secrets was. "Aw, Benny. You know, I don't think you're really in love with me." 

Despite his careful review of dozens of scenarios, this was a response Fraser hadn't anticipated. 

"You don't?" 

"No." Ray sat beside him on the log, turned to face him with a rare show of unforced confidence. "I mean, no offense, you're my best friend and all, but when it comes to emotions and love and stuff, you're about as clueless as they come, Fraser." 

"So you've made a point to mention before," Benny said stiffly. 

Ray bulldozed on. "I mean, you and me, we're tight, right? And I'm thinking about your childhood and how you grew up so alone, although I know you had friends like Mark and stuff. But still, you were lonely but you were home, where you're happy. Now here you are in Chicago, and you only have one close friend, and you're lonely except for me. I can see how you'd fixate on me a little. Hell, I've fixated on you sometimes, and I got tons of people to worry about!" 

Fraser stared at him. "You have fixated on me?" 

Ray shrugged. "Sure. I've found myself thinking about you too much \-- you know, worrying about whether you were going to be mugged in that rat-trap you live in, mortgaging my house when you were in jail, things like that." 

The Mountie looked disappointed. "Those were acts of a friend, Ray. A great friend, but just a friend. I'm talking about love." 

"But that's just it!" Ray exclaimed. "Don't you see? There you were on the train with your boss, and you kissed her, right?" 

"Yes." 

"But then I'm betting that right after that she ordered you to forget about it and told you you didn't have a chance." 

Fraser frowned. "Yes." 

"And so you know what that means." 

"What?" 

"You were frustrated!" Ray smiled happily. 

Fraser waited, but Ray seemed to have reached his conclusion. "I'm afraid I don't quite see your point, Ray." 

Ray rolled his eyes. "Think about it, Benny. You're itching for more from the Dragon Lady, but she's, you know, unreachable. And then here I am, your friend, and we...you know, uh, we care about each other a lot, so you sort of get confused inside and you want what you want from Thatcher, but you think about how you could get it from me instead." 

Ray looked so pleased with himself that it was difficult -- though essential \-- for Fraser to shake his head. 

"I'm sorry, Ray, but it was nothing like that." 

"Hey, don't shoot me down so quickly! Think about it." 

"I have thought about it, Ray. My love for you didn't come out of confused dreams or misplaced longing. In fact, I had to think very long and hard before I realized I loved you as more than a friend." 

Momentarily defeated, Ray slouched down. 

"I had been thinking about my kiss with the Inspector," Benny began again. "About how soft her lips and body were, about her strength and fire, about the undeniable chemistry between us, and it made me think of that night with Victoria, watching the Northern Lights. And so even while we were fighting and the Bolt Brothers almost killed us, I was on this emotional high, thinking of possibilities with her, thinking that I had another chance at love. 

"And so I went home that night and thought. I don't think I slept the entire clock 'round. And before dawn I had realized something." 

"Yeah?" 

"I never really loved Victoria, anymore than she ever really loved me. I loved the idea of her, the beauty of her. I had confused love with romance. And I was doing it again with Meg Thatcher. A long, ecstatic kiss on top of a train stirs the blood and fills one with the desire to write poetry, but it's nothing compared to real love." 

Benny gazed into Ray's eyes now with an open adoration that had Vecchio leaning slightly away even as the man continued: "And I knew this because I compared what I felt for them with what I felt for you." 

"That doesn't mean what you feel is...you know." 

"I know?" 

"Sexual, all right? You don't have to feel sex stuff towards me just because we bonded so tight." 

Fraser shook his head slowly with a rueful smile, his blue eyes sparkling with the lights from the snow. "Ray, I have been sexually attracted to you since we met." 

"What?!" 

Now it was Fraser's turn to produce a casual shrug. "Why shouldn't I? You're an extremely attractive man. I believe I've intimated that to you before." 

Ray stared at him in shock. 

"In fact, during the early days of our friendship, I was under the impression that my attraction to you was returned." He paused for Ray to sputter again. "It took me some time to realize that you were simply offering me a more intimate sort of friendship than I had ever known before. And when I was certain that you didn't intend for things to become physical between us, I cannot pretend that my disappointment wasn't more than compensated for by my delight in our other means of closeness. I buried my attraction to you as far down within myself as I could, and indeed, there were many weeks that sometimes passed when I hardly thought about it at all." 

"Meaning there were some weeks when you thought about it a lot!" Vecchio accused. 

"Well, you sometimes made it very difficult for me to think about anything else, Ray." 

"What?!" 

Benny cringed slightly. "I am not in any way attempting to imply that my emotional responses are your fault, Ray. I'm only saying that you are...quite beautiful." 

Ray gave a weak gasp. 

"Well, you are, Ray." Fraser sounded almost disapproving. "You must know you have remarkable eyes. You certainly use them to your advantage when you converse. In fact, if we were living in an earlier century, I'm sure you would routinely accent them with kohl." 

"I would not!" 

"Many men used make-up in the --" 

"I don't care!" Ray stood up and walked away, then paced back, and away, before turning back and sitting down again. "Yes, I know my eyes are all right. Valerie said so, didn't she?" 

"Valerie?" 

"You know, the dancer with my sunglasses." 

"I thought you called them 'strippers,' Ray." 

"She's a nice girl!" 

"Well, she was certainly right about your eyes. However, she neglected to mention your hands, which are long and elegant, and the classic and pleasing curve of your skull, to say nothing of your neck." 

"Leave my pencil neck out of this," Ray growled, face flushed. 

"Now that's silly, Ray. You don't have a pencil neck. It's as long and elegant as your hands and your body, and made, if I made say so, for kisses." 

"Fraser!" 

"And, of course, I suspect you're quite aware of the pleasing properties of your backside." 

Ray boggled. 

Fraser rolled his shoulders defensively. "Well, why else would you wear such baggy clothes all the time?" 

"Benny," Ray strangled out, "I can't talk about this with you." 

Fraser signed. "Actually, Ray, I believe we *have* to talk about this. I'm certain it's part of what we're meant to do with this time. And besides, it hardly makes a difference now, does it?" 

"Of course it makes a difference!" 

"It's a moot point, Ray. We no longer have bodies to feel sexual about, whatever our preferences." 

"It's the principle of the thing!" Ray stood up again, brushing snow off his knees with near-numb hands. "You *wanted* me! And you never even said a word!" 

"Did you want me to say something?" Fraser knew if he had a body his head would be hurting. 

"Yes! No! Yes!" Ray stormed away, stormed back, harrumphed, and sat back down. 

"Do you find that you can't forgive me for this, Ray?" Fraser tamped down his anger at what was feeling more and more like a betrayal, but when Ray's green eyes blinked at him, he knew shame at having misunderstood his friend. 

"This isn't about forgiveness, Fraser. This is about me thinking our friendship meant one thing and finding out it meant something else. Everything that I thought went on between us was wrong." 

"I never lied to you, Ray." 

"You can lie with what you don't say and as well as what you do." 

"Lies of omission?" Fraser thought about it. "I told you how I felt in my actions, Ray. And if I kept myself from expressing certain actions, it was only to keep from offending or alienating you." 

"You still should have told me." Ray pouted, his chin on his fists, his eyes on the undisturbed snow at their feet. 

"I was planning to, Ray. I did only know it was true love a few weeks ago, as I said, and I had no idea my time to tell you while we could still do something about it was so short." 

So slowly Fraser wondered briefly if the world were folding up again, Ray's head came up. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

Fraser reviewed his last few sentences. "I had no idea I would die, Ray." 

"Do *what* about it?" 

Fraser grasped understanding to his breast as though it were a wounded pup. "Ah! Oh. I only meant --" 

"Do you really think in a million years, in a million lifetimes, I would ever *ever* want to...with a guy?!" 

Fraser realized he was listening for Ray's final words to echo off the distant mountains. He gave himself a slight shake. 

"Ray, I only meant that if we had wanted to act on my feelings --" 

"Yuck! Jeeze! That is disgusting!" 

Fraser's back straightened that last centimeter. "It is hardly 'disgusting,' Ray." 

"Yes, it is!" 

"You really feel that kissing me would have been disgusting?" 

"Of course it would!" 

Benny looked forward, staring out over the white expanse, feeling the connection to home he had sought in bringing them here. Over the pass to the northwest one entered a deep valley that was beautiful in summer, but in the winter looked so lonely and forlorn that a man's heart could break with it. 

"Aw, Benny, don't get your feelings hurt. I just don't do things like that, all right?" 

"All right, Ray." 

Several minutes passed, until it seemed that Benny could feel his friend collapse in on himself. 

"Benny, look. If there was even a chance, if I could even maybe on a dare think about doing stuff like that, then, you know. But I don't. I couldn't." 

"I know what?" Fraser's blue eyes turned finally and saw that Ray was giving him everything he could. "You'd kiss me?" 

Ray laughed, his eyes bright. "Benny, for the love of God, I'd marry you." 

Fraser could not, nor did he wish to stop his smile. Considering everything, it was a staggering compliment. 

"Thank you, Ray." 

The broad, lean shoulders gave a trademark rolling shrug. "So what do you think? Do we hang out in Carver's cell and see if the guy contacts him? 'Cause I'm thinking he probably won't." 

"We need more information about others who made have hired this man or woman." 

"I'm thinking it's elaborate enough they maybe need a team." 

"An organization?" Fraser thought about that. "If so, then they may be operating outside of Chicago." 

"So how do we get Diefenbaker to the station?" 

"I fail to see what Dief can do there, Ray." 

"Why, look up the information we need in the computer database, Fraser." 

"Ah. Of course." Fraser frowned at him. Was this some sort of payback? 

@@@ 

Diefenbaker waited by Welsh's office. 

"Very good," Fraser praised, both for the wolf's patience and for the time of day. It was late and between shifts. Elaine's computer was running, but the woman who sometimes used her desk at night wasn't in the building. Ray kept watch by the back door as Fraser nodded for Dief to come to the computer and settle himself in the chair. 

It was slow going, and Dief's nose was sometimes inaccurate with the keys, but fortunately the system required little user input. 

"Six days," he said at one point while Dief was struggling to reach the "R" key. 

"We missed our funerals," Ray said, not sounding as though he minded. "I bet they were a real show." 

"Great Scott!" 

Ray abandoned his post. It wouldn't matter if someone came in right this second anyway, and Fraser's eyes were bugging at the screen. A look over Benny's shoulder induced a long, slow whistle. 

"That's over thirty possibles." 

"The parameters we input were very broad, but there's a definite suggestion of a pattern here." 

"I'll say." Ray pointed to the screen. "Have Dief check out this one first." 

Fraser looked at the selection: Aaron Burham, investigating officer for a serial rapist, had been raped and murdered in his apartment. Dief struck a few keys, and they read together that the case was still open, but that Burham's murderer was suspected of being a copy-cat of the original perp: one David Rooks. 

They read through several more, discounting over a dozen. In the end, there seemed a traceable connection between at least ten of the crimes. 

"The trouble is that if these are professional hits, there'll be little in the way of physical evidence," Ray muttered, thinking aloud. "We'll have to concentrate on the guys that hired them. We need information about their correspondence, visitors...all the stuff it will be pretty hard for us to find!" 

"Being dead is quite an obstacle, Ray." 

Vecchio smiled. "That's one way to put it, Benny." 

Fraser's smile back was radiant. 

"What?" Ray swayed back warily. 

The pale face flushed slightly, and the blue eyes were hesitant. "I'm just...so pleased you're not mad at me, Ray." 

"Oh, let's not go there, Fraser. We're friends, right? And like you said, it's too late to worry about it all now anyway. Maybe it's kind of like...you know, a blessing." 

"A blessing, Ray?" 

"Sure. Part of the good that comes with the bad. We're dead, but now the fact that you were in love with me doesn't matter." 

Fraser frowned. "I'm still in love with you, Ray." 

"Not really, not in a physical sense." Vecchio smiled. "I mean, think about it. You take out the physical part of being in love, and what have you got left? The sort of, uh, feelings that friends have for each other. I figure we're even again now." 

Fraser did not ask "Even Steven?" but it was obvious he wanted to. Ray grinned. "So, how do we find out who our guys were talking to, Benny?" 

"It's not that simple." 

"I'll say. We don't have hands, and I don't think you can teach Dief to type that well." 

"No." Fraser gave himself a shake. "I mean, yes, you're right about that, but you're wrong about the other." 

Ray sighed, though he was less confused than he was pretending to be. 

"Ray, just because my body doesn't...function anymore, I haven't simply begun to feel nothing but friendship for you. I suppose my situation is comparable to someone who has become paralyzed. I assure you, the physical...urges are still present." 

"I really don't want to hear about your physical urges, Fraser!" 

The blue eyes betrayed a world of hurt. Ray's head slumped down for another, full-body sigh. 

"Benny, it's just not the right time. We've got work to do." 

"Agreed, but I wonder just sort of work it is." 

Vecchio straightened up. "Meaning?" 

"Meaning that we seem to be between worlds, that we are being offered an opportunity to bring a crime to light, yes, but there is also the matter of preparing ourselves for what lies next." 

Ray crossed his arms. "I already thought about saying goodbye to everyone, if that's what you mean." 

Fraser nodded. "Agreed. I would...like to say my farewells to several people. Our funerals would have been most distressing to witness, but they would have been convenient for such exchanges." 

Ray's face sort of slid into a smile. "Yeah, I guess." 

"But beyond this, Ray, I believe we should also make use of this time to settle things between us." 

Vecchio's eyes went wide as his face paled. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Fraser rushed the words: "Only that since we seem to have the good fortune to be spending eternity together, Ray, I believe it's vital that we should have no misunderstandings at the outset." 

Ray settled back into his stance. "Yeah, I guess I can see that." He sighed and rolled his head in a gesture that would have relieved his muscles, had he any muscles. "Okay, so you really think...I mean, you really are in love with me, right?" 

"Yes, Ray." So softly were the words spoken they were almost lost amongst the cold furniture of the station. 

"But you don't have a body." 

"Only a soul." 

"So you...you love me with your soul." 

"Yes." 

Ray shrugged. "And I love you with my soul too, you know. I don't really see how they're different. I mean, I've thought of you as family for...since before Victoria, even." 

"Did you ever once think of me sexually, Ray?" 

Ray made a face. 

"Not even of kissing me?" 

"Your cheek, maybe, Italian-style." 

Fraser nodded, looking miserable. "Not even embracing me?" 

"A hug?" Ray smiled, his eyes shining guilt but sparkling suddenly. "Sure, yeah, a hug." 

The Mountie regarded him solemnly. "How?" 

"How what?" 

Dief whined, and Fraser made a motion over his head as though he were petting it. The wolf sniffed in disdain and curled up on the floor. Ray watched quietly. 

"How did you think about hugging me?" Fraser asked at last. 

Green eyes rolled. "With my arms." 

"Your body close to mine?" 

"For a couple of seconds, yeah, I guess." 

"Did you wonder what my chest would feel like?" 

"No!" 

Fraser looked at him, obviously struggling, until his steady regard was a gaze, and an adoring one at that. 

"I thought about what your chest would feel like, Ray." 

Vecchio fidgeted. "Okay." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means okay! It means I understand." 

"I thought often of how you would taste." 

Ray groaned. "Fraser!" 

And Fraser stood, his face shuttered. "I thought so. You *don't* understand, Ray." 

Dief hid a second before the door opened, and Jack Huey walked through, his suit looking about three days past its due date and his eyes looking about a hundred years old. Fraser watched, but Vecchio absolutely gawked as the detective walked into the room and ended up at Ray's desk. As the tall man stared blankly at the surface, Ray shook himself. 

"Fraser, my desk." 

"Yes, it is, Ray." 

"Well, I've been dead six days. They should have cleared off my stuff. Someone else should be sitting there now." 

"I doubt any transfers would have come in so soon. Perhaps they're waiting until then to clear your affects." 

Ray frowned at him. "Why?" 

Fraser shook his head slowly, his eyes soft. "Ray..." He gestured towards Jack. 

Huey was fingering the Statue of Liberty figure, then picked up Ray's small soccer ball and threw it into the plastic hoop. 

"Do you think he knew, Benny?" Ray whispered. 

"About how sorry you were over Louis? Yes, I think so, Ray, although you had nothing to be sorry for. In fact, Detective Gardino saved our lives with his." 

"What, for about a year, huh?" 

"He was a police officer, Ray. He --" 

"Knew the risks! Right! I..." Ray's rampage was cut off as Detective Huey walked from Ray's desk to his own. He powered up his computer and called up Word, then began to type. 

*Detective Jonathan Huey, of the 27th Precinct, Chicago. 

I hereby tender my resignation from the Chicago Police Department.* 

He printed it off and signed it, then folded it into an envelope on which he wrote Lieutenant Welsh's name. Then he put it in his center drawer. 

Ray let out a whoosh of relief. 

"That's right, Jack. Sleep on it. You don't really want to quit." 

Huey rose from his desk with a short nod, then walked to the door. Once there, however, he turned, grabbed the soccer ball from Ray's desk, and walked out. 

"Hey!" Ray objected, then ducked his head. "Aw, you can keep it, Jack." 

"Why don't you think he wants to quit?" Fraser asked, his eyes holding a curious expression that went beyond the question. "He's lost a partner and a good friend within a year. Perhaps he's feeling his mortality." 

Ray's body seemed to push Fraser's words away, turning to look at the wolf as he emerged from under the desk. "Jack and I weren't -" He stopped himself, and Fraser shrugged. 

"It would seem you were, Ray. In fact, I believe you're unprepared by how many people's lives are affected by the loss of you." 

Ray snorted. "I know what I mean to people, Fraser." 

Blue eyes glinted. "You had no idea I was in love with you." 

Green eyes glinted right back. "And you had no idea I thought of you as..." Ray tried to stop, but it was obviously too late. "...as the guy who, you know, saved me." 

"Saved you, Ray?" 

"Yeah, Benny. So you were my savior, you know?" 

"I don't know, Ray. You're the one who rescued me when I came to Chicago. I would never have lasted here without you." 

"And I would have ended up under suspension from IA! And that would probably have done it for the Vecchio career." Ray looked after Huey. "Jack's a good cop." Ray laughed. "And before you came, I hated his guts. It was only after you came that me and him and Louie worked things out. You have no idea how I used to think about you, about what you meant to my life." 

Ray turned now and looked at Fraser. "I used to pray to God, thanking Him for sending you my way." He rolled his eyes. "Not as many times as Frannie probably prayed to God about you, but I bet I was close." 

Fraser looked away, looked back, his eyes the warm blue of the root of a flame. "Perhaps your prayers explain our current good fortune, Ray." 

"What, being dead?" 

Fraser smiled knowingly. "Being together, Ray." 

"Yeah." Ray looked around. "This would pretty much suck if I was by myself. In fact, I guess I wouldn't mind at all if it wasn't for the people we're hurting." 

"We didn't hurt them, Ray. The people we're going to bring to justice hurt them." 

Ray ducked his head in agreement, rubbing his long, pale hands together before him, drawing Fraser's eyes just as that gesture always had. 

"You have such elegant hands, Ray." 

"Had, Fraser, and why are you talking like that?" 

Fraser's face was both earnest and matter-of-fact, an expression, Ray realized, he had never seen on those features before. 

"As you keep pointing out, Ray, we're dead. I've often wanted to compliment your body and couldn't. Now I can." 

"What, you think it doesn't bother me just 'cause my hands are rotting in a coffin now?" 

Fraser winced, but wouldn't be distracted. "I suppose it may bother you, the same way all compliments bother you. But I know now it won't drive you away." He sighed. "Ray, you have no idea how many times I've wanted to tell you of the softness of your eyes, the sensual curves of your body, the command of your body to mine." 

"Fraser!" Ray's voice was sheer whine. "Stop it!" 

The cupid's bow curled into a satisfied little smile. "You have eternity to get used to my adoration, Ray." 

"Yeah? Well, I guess that's what it's going to take." Ray shook his head. "Fraser, we need to focus here. We need to be able to reach someone." 

The Mountie thought for a moment, allowing his eyes to linger on the slope of Ray's nape, relaxing into a sort of warm comfort that almost made him feel alive, particularly since his friend bore it with nothing more than another roll of his lovely eyes. 

"Perhaps...we could find someone to help us, someone who's shown some ability in this area." 

"No." Ray put up his hands. "Not another one of your crazy friends, Fraser." 

"You seemed to put faith in Garret's abilities, Ray." 

Ray blinked, and when they world folded in on itself, both men thought absently that they were starting to get used to it. 

Almost. 

@@@ 

"When you're done with the dogs, the birds need water. And check 12. He's looking tired." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Sally Pertri smiled softly, having learned long ago that a wide grin made her third chin appear, and shifted herself to the back of the pet store. Garret watched her go with a shy smile of his own, then went back to cleaning out the dog cages. They were good dogs, some with pure pedigrees, some just friendly mutts, and the store did a nice business. Sally paid him a little over minimum wage, more than enough to keep up the rent of his apartment. He was saving, in fact, for a bed, his first real bed in a long, long time. 

Garret stood, then bent over to pick up the full trash bag. The gold locket around his neck swung out and almost whacked him in the eye, and he laughed. 

Then he stood once again, trash bag forgotten at his feet, as his dark, glassy eyes scanned the room. A moment passed, then another, and he almost relaxed. Then he startled back two feet from his place at the trash bag, his breathing wild, his eyes rolling. 

Worn, leathery hands closed over his ears. 

"No," he muttered. "No. No. No!" 

The hands came down, then reached, picking up the trash bag. Trembling legs took the garbage outside. 

Fraser started to follow. 

"Leave him alone, Benny." 

"But Ray, he needs to face his fears if --" 

"I think he's facing all he can right now, Benny. Look at him: a job, and I'm betting a place to live. If he doesn't want to deal with seeing things other people can't for a while, then we should let him alone." 

Fraser looked down at the Stetson he was turning his hands by the brim, 'round and 'round and 'round. 

Ray watched the hat for a while. 

"Benny." 

The Mountie looked up. 

"It's okay that he was scared of us. The shepherds freaked out with the angels, you know?" 

Fraser smiled despite himself. 

"Besides, I'm thinking that if he didn't want to see us, he's not the one we're supposed to be going to, anyway." Ray thought a moment, stroking his chin, and Fraser settled back against the wall of the pet shop, absently noting the happy puppy licking herself inside the cage to his right. "I think we should be looking for someone who'll take it in stride, you know? Might even think it was a gas." Ray shrugged. "I'd be willing to try Frannie, frankly, but we already know she didn't see us, and besides...it'd be a lot for her to deal with, I think." 

"True, Ray." Fraser thought a moment, and then thought harder, but the original thought wouldn't go away. 

"What?" Vecchio asked. 

Fraser pulled in his shoulders slightly. "Well, do you remember when we were on the Musical Ride train, Ray?" 

"Not something I'm likely to forget even after death, Benny." 

"My father was there, helping us." 

Ray rolled his eyes. "Of course. Why wouldn't he be? I bet the angels dancing on pins stopped by for a laugh too." 

"Ray." 

"Fraser?" 

"Buck Frobisher saw my father as well." 

Ray looked at him. "The Mountie?" The distinctive nose wrinkled, but to Fraser's relief, Ray didn't mention Buck's other defining characteristic during that adventure. 

"He was a very close friend of my father's." Fraser smiled suddenly. "Somewhat like you and me, I believe." Benny's thumb stroked his eyebrow. "I read once in my father's journals that..." 

The men stared at the journal in Fraser's hand. 

"Man!" Ray hooted. "That is so *cool!*" He frowned in concentration and walked towards the large front window of the store. The birds near the front cage spooked slightly. 

When Ray started laughing, Fraser smiled to himself and joined his friend. The Riv was parked outside, though even as they watched a boy zoomed directly through it on his skateboard. 

"No respect for a classic," Ray sighed. They stood looking at the car for a moment, Fraser with his back straight and Vecchio with his eyes possession-soft. 

"So what's in the journal, Benny?" 

"'A friend is someone who won't stop until he finds you and brings you home.'" 

Ray laughed. "I like that." 

"My father wrote it about Buck, but when I read it the last time, just afterwards, you knocked on the door. It's things like that that helped me..." 

Ray's voice was kind. "Helped you fall in love with me?" 

"Yes." 

"So here I was the whole time, romancing you, and I didn't even notice." Vecchio seemed to find the thought genuinely amusing. Fraser thought about the sheer magnitude of effort Ray put into being a ladies' man, and wondered if perhaps the idea of courting someone - anyone - so effortlessly appealed to the man's well-developed sense of irony. 

"If we'd only lived a little longer, I might have managed to get you on our honeymoon before you even knew you were out of Chicago," Fraser murmured. 

Ray laughed. "Wow! You're getting the hang of jokes, even! The afterlife suits you, Benny." 

But Ray grinned when the Mountie burst out laughing. 

They ended up looking at the Riv for a while longer. 

"Not much good for a ride up to Canada," Ray sighed finally. 

"We won't be up there long." 

"Will you want us to go up there, Benny? For good, when this is over, I mean?" 

Fraser blinked rapidly. "I'd...like to visit, certainly, Ray. If we can." 

"I guess the cold and bugs wouldn't be so bad now." 

"Ray?" 

"Yes, Benny? Go ahead and ask." 

Fraser looked at him. "Ask what?" 

The detective shrugged. "Whatever it is you're about to ask that you wouldn't have asked when we were alive but feel free to ask now that we're dead and I know how you feel about me and you know how I feel about you." 

Fraser let a moment go by, evidently trying to decide whether he should be offended. In the end, his voice was neutral. "It was something I had wondered, actually. Just...at some point...I mean...I would have gone back to Canada eventually, I suppose." 

Ray frowned. "Of course! They couldn't hold a grudge against you forever." 

"I should hope not, Ray." 

"So what's the question?" 

"There's absolutely no way you would have come with me, was there?" 

Fraser waited in sorrow a very long time before he realized Ray wasn't answering. 

"Ray?" 

"I tried not to think about when you would be gone back to Canada." 

The Mountie went very, very still. For the first time, he realized he no longer needed to breathe, or to pretend to breathe -- until he wanted at last to speak again. A quick inhale for the soft question: "Does that mean you might have, Ray?" 

Broad, thin shoulders shrugged the issue away. "How could I have gone up there, huh? It would have looked mighty strange, Fraser, me just taking off and moving up there. I really don't think my family would have gone for it. And what would I have done up there, anyway? They don't have many jobs in Ice Cube, Alberta for Chicago cops." 

Fraser's voice was sheer wonder now. "You thought about it." 

"Yeah, some. All right? But it was just nothing. You know, thoughts about nothing." Vecchio moved away from him, turning his back on the ghost-Riv shining clean outside. "It's just...the best I ever got was with you, Benny. Giving that up was gonna suck, and I knew it." 

"So if you'd had a job, do you think --" 

"What difference does it make, Fraser? It wasn't gonna happen. No use making myself sick over it." 

Fraser refused to budge. "But if it had been practical, Ray, even possible, would you have come with me?" 

One last shrug, and a frown. "Yeah. Maybe." 

Habitual stoicism exploded into a smile. "Ray!" 

The frown deepened. "What?" 

"You do love me!" 

"I said I did, didn't I?" 

Fraser's arms wrapped loosely around his red-clad body. "You and I, in the Yukon. You on special assignment. After a few weeks, being with me, loving me as a friend, a best friend, you might have allowed me to take care of...certain needs. Or perhaps the rugged conditions would have made you more amenable to finding pleasure where you could. Or the days --" 

"You been writing this stuff down, Fraser?" 

"-- might have hung heavy on your hands, and you might have decided that experimenting would alleviate the boredom." 

"There ain't enough boredom in the world, Fraser..." 

"Or perhaps one night," the Mountie's voice began to lower and gentle, "you'd get cold and drink too much of something you're not used to, and I'd be getting you in bed and suddenly something about me would appeal to you. Perhaps my eyes or my knees --" 

"Your knees? I seen your knees, Fraser." 

"-- and you would reach for me, for just the one part of me that appealed." Those blue eyes were gazing at him again, Ray noted with alarm. "And I would give you that part, and the rest of me as well." 

"You been thinking about this way too much." 

"The mind craves occupation during sentry duty, Ray." 

"What? You been standing out there guarding Canadian concrete and thinking about *that?*" 

Fraser's smile was content. "Yes, Ray." 

"Well, that's disgusting. You should have had more respect for me as a friend." 

Fraser raised an eyebrow. "You respect Ms. St-Laurent as a colleague, Ray, but I believe you've entertained more than one --" 

"Yeah, yeah." Ray frowned at him again. "You gonna spend eternity talking about this stuff to me, Benny?" 

"Perhaps. Who can say?" 

It was understood in the question and the response that Fraser would never speak another word of it again if Ray asked, and that shared, silent understanding was more intimate, Fraser thought, than a kiss. 

Ray scowled openly at Benny's new little smile, and finally harrumphed. 

"Beats Inuit stories, I guess." 

"If you say so, Ray." 

"So, are we...can you just tell me why, Benny?" 

"Why what?" 

"Nothing. You ready to go to Frobisher now?" 

"Why what, Ray?" 

But Ray shook his head, meaning it, and in a moment they were standing inside an extremely clean men's room. Standing not far from them, his back thankfully to them, was Buck Frobisher. 

Vecchio and Fraser exchanged a glance, then slid through the door, both shuddering at the sensation, however non-physical it might be, when the wood passed through their forms. The hallway showed clearly that they were in at RCMP headquarters. 

"Whitehorse," Fraser pronounced, looking at the directory on the wall. "I didn't realize he was posted here now." He nodded at Ray in approval. "A very good posting for him." 

"Mountie Heaven, huh?" 

Fraser looked smug. "I believe I can say with some authority that it's not, Ray." 

Ray ignored him. Frobisher burst from the restroom, pulled down the front of his blue Mountie uniform, and headed down the hall, paying no attention to the two apparitions walking at his sides. 

Ray's attention was caught momentarily by a door. But it was just an ordinary exit door. He turned back and caught up, demanding, "So how do we get his attention?" 

"I was hoping he would see us," Fraser confessed in disappointment. "Although, it is possible that he does see us, realizes we're ghosts, and doesn't want to appear to be talking to himself in public." 

Ray looked around. "I don't see anyone else around here. He's working the late shift." 

They all walked into an office holding several desks and three ranks of file cabinets. Frobisher's desk was littered with reports and dominated by a Dell PC. No one sat at the other desks, and they could see out the many blind-covered windows that it was night. 

Fraser gave a worried frown. "Yes, I suppose he would have said or done something at this point to indicate his awareness of us." 

"Fraser, we're not even giving him a case of the willies." Ray perched on the messy desk and peered into the computer monitor as Frobisher pushed reports around, looking for something and muttering to himself. 

"Hey! He's already into the SCIC," Ray said, peering at the screen. "If we could just get him to enter the right search, he could see the pattern himself." 

"Ray." The name was heavy with guilt. Ray's eyes snapped to his friend's solemn face. Fraser was reading the reports over Frobisher's shoulder. 

"He's reading about criminal files where bombs were put into children's toys." Fraser gazed now into the face of his father's best friend. Though he was clean-shaven and well-pressed, Buck had never looked so old and tired, not even when Gieger was chasing him. His eyes had both weariness and fear as they scanned the close lines of photocopied text, and his hands shook, just slightly. 

"Benny, there wasn't anything we could have done. You said so yourself." 

"He feels he's let my father down, Ray." 

The Italian sighed. "I know, Benny." 

Frobisher looked up suddenly, staring at the space just to the left of Benny's shoulder. 

"I was expecting you," Buck said quietly. 

"Who's he talking to?" Ray demanded. 

"I don't --" Fraser stopped, frowned, shook his head. 

"Still nothing?" Buck asked that empty space. "Well, we should take that as a good sign, don't you think?" 

Ray and Benny stared hard at the air, at each other, at Frobisher. 

"I know," the man said next. "I've been looking over similar cases, but I'm not getting anywhere. Your son and his friend made more trouble over the past two years for more people..." He shook his head with exhaustion and pride. 

Fraser gasped. Ray turned slightly pale on his friend's behalf. 

"I know that!" Frobisher stood up, stretching his back. "You think it's easy, wondering who could be behind this while I'm stuck up here and can't do anything?" 

"He's talking to my father, Ray." 

"I know, Benny." 

"Yes, I've been in contact with them, but they don't know anything. No one has a clue!" Frobisher frowned. "What?" 

"How can he talk to him when I can't? How can he see him when I can't?" 

"I don't know." 

Frobisher snorted. "If there were a trail to follow I'd be on it! The whole thing is colder than a witch's bosom!" Frobisher shook his head, evidently listening again. "No! They weren't after anyone like that, and no one they put away used that kind of bomb or anything like that." 

"Children's toys!" Ray shouted. 

"He can't hear you, Ray," Fraser murmured, his eyes lost and his shoulders bowed under the weight of that loss. 

"What?" Frobisher asked. 

"Children's toys!" Ray howled. 

"What do you mean you didn't say anything?" Buck demanded. "You said 'children's toys.'" The Mountie looked offended and stared at the air with his hands on his hips. "Don't go telling me I'm hearing things! You were the one who was always hearing things that weren't there! When I think about all the times you spooked my horse with -- What? I most certainly did not!" 

Frobisher glared at the empty space for quite a few minutes, then threw up his hands. 

"I'm not going to talk with you about that! That was all your fault! And if you hadn't told him he was under arrest until *after* we'd handcuffed him, none of it would have happened!" He sat at his desk with a grunt. "Now, what's so special about children's toys?" He tapped several keys on the computer, leading himself through the maze of the database quickly and efficiently. 

"Hey, he's almost as good as Elaine!" Ray said happily, trying to smile some life back into Fraser's eyes. 

"Quiet," Frobisher ordered the air. "Let me think my way through this." Several more pages were clicked through. "And don't sulk!" 

"Benny," Vecchio said quietly, "I think I got it worked out." 

Fraser turned from the empty air he was staring into so hard. "What, Ray?" 

"You and me, we're not alive, and I don't think we're quite where we're supposed to end up when we're dead, right?" 

"So it would seem, Ray, though we've seen no means of moving on from this manner of existence." 

"And we probably won't until, you know, our job is done. So I'm thinking that your father can't reach us, not while we're like this. I think we have to finish this stuff, then we'll get to see your father, and who knows who else?" 

Fraser looked unsatisfied. 

"You could see him before, and he could see you," Ray urged. "And in Heaven you'll have to see him, right? So we must just sort of be...blocked out here. You know, like a hometown game on TV." 

Fraser nodded, then visibly forced the issue to the side. "I'm sure you're right, Ray." 

"There!" Ray shouted, pointing at the screen where a scroll of his arrests involving homicide ran down the middle. "Carver! Click on CARVER!" 

"Hmmm. Carver." Frobisher clicked. "Look at this. This man threatened Detective Vecchio's family and your son with children's toys." Several minutes passed in silence as Frobisher read through the case file. "Yes, I see he's still in prison, however, it is possible to contract someone's death from prison. People use phones and things like that now." 

"Related cases!" Ray shouted. 

"Yes, I do remember that you had a phone before I did, but that's only because Caroline insisted on it! I swear, without that woman you would have lived in a cave." 

"Related cases!" 

"And good thing she did, too! The only civilizing influence in your entire life, if you ask me! Now shut up while I look for other cases using children's toys." 

"No! No! Other cases with prisoners getting revenge on the guys who arrested them!" Ray met Benny's eyes with discomfort. That was a long sentence to shout into a guy's unconscious...or whatever it was Ray was achieving. 

Frobisher closed his eyes with a sigh and rubbed them. After a moment, he looked up. "No, just...I have a headache from staring at this thing." He punched in another search and nodded. "That will take a while to go through." He stood, and Ray and Benny stepped back. "I haven't eaten since last night." Frobisher took his hat and put it on his head. "Yeah, yeah, but this time don't eat my fries!" 

Following the man automatically, Fraser fought off a forlorn expression. Ray tried to think up more to argue with, but his attention was again caught as they started down the hall. 

It was just a door marked "Exit" in green, glowing letters, like a million other doors he'd seen. But it seemed warm somehow, brushing just a suggestion of heat at his skin as he passed. 

And that was the thing, he realized, his steps slowing, then stopping until he stood before the door. It wasn't the door, it was the sensation in his own body: so pleasant, when for so long now, since his death, his body had felt nothing at all. In fact, now, as he stood there, and only now he began to feel as though he did indeed have a body, as though he were real, and not just some sort of "thing" that still thought it was Ray Vecchio. 

The heat became more real as he stood there, the wonderful sort of heat you got from a fireplace or a warmed-up blanket, or even better, the sort of heat you found in a hug from your mother, all hot cocoa and loving arms. 

And there was light too, he realized, coming...no, just almost there around the cracks between the door and the frame. Nothing glowed, nothing intruded, but he was certain there was light on the other side, the way a door seemed when the sun was shining on it, even though the room inside was well-lit. 

And then he forgot about the light and the warmth, because they were nothing compared to the aroma coming around that door. It was the smell of...oh, what was that? Sunlight, and the best, most expensive clothing store he'd ever been in. Armani concentrate. And there was coffee in there and good food, incredible food. His mouth watered, and only then did he realize his mouth had been dry for days. He was shaking; it was almost painful how wonderful it was to come back to life like this. 

But the smell was the best part, a whole world of smells, and as his hand rested against the wood of the door he could feel every ripple and ridge in the wood grain against his palm and each finger. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply and was filled with the essence of Paradise. 

"Ray?" 

He smiled. "Yes, Benny. Come on, let's go." 

"Go where? Outside?" 

With difficulty, Vecchio turned from the door, his hand brushing the knob. "Don't you smell it, Benny?" 

His friend seemed so pale and colorless, flat and almost...cartoonish. Drawn, rather than sculpted. He also looked a little scared. 

"Smell what, Ray?" 

"There's nothing to be scared of, Benny. I can even feel it, how right it is to go through. We've earned it, Benny, but then..." He let his eyes drift closed again, and even this sensation of knowing was different. He *knew* these things. It wasn't a question of proof or reason. "...everyone deserves it. It's just that some people don't see it. It's there, but they don't look." 

"Ray? What's happening?" Benny's voice was terrified. "Where are you going? What's happening to you?!" 

Ray opened his eyes and instinctively reached out his hands. Benny caught them and pulled at him, but back that way everything was leached of color, flat, odorless. Why did Benny want to stay there? 

"Benny, come on. You'll love it. You'll be so happy." Ray laughed. "I bet there'll be some way to just care about each other without weirdness, even. And I don't think there's guilt or pain --" 

"Ray, no! Don't leave me!" 

Ray let Benny pull him close, but it was slow. Everything was so slow all of the sudden, and his body longed to feel and be alive again. Benny was pulling him back into the cold and nothing place. 

"I won't leave you, Benny," Ray muttered, almost annoyed at the suggestion. "But don't you want to...can't you smell it, Benny? I bet it even smells like Canada." 

"We can't leave until we finish the case, Ray. We have to see this through together." 

And Ray let it go, for Benny's sake, and even though his body wasn't really there anymore it felt heavy and aching with the effort. He prayed silently for the strength, and then everything was flat and dull again, and Benny's arms were around him, holding him close to the apparition of his best friend's body that his own arms were around. 

"Ray," Benny was whispering. "Ray." And Fraser drew in deep, shuddering breaths, sniffing slightly. 

"Do you smell it, Benny? Do you?" Ray chuckled. "It's Heaven, Benny. Honest-to-goodness Heaven. That's what's waiting for us." 

Benny's buried his face in Ray's neck and breathed in deeply, calming like a child spooked by a ghost story and now reassured there were no monsters under the bed. And then he laughed, weakly, and muttered into Ray's long, almost-warm neck: 

"If you say so, Ray. But in all honesty, I've smelled Heaven on you a few times before." 

If he could, Ray would have shivered at the blasphemy. He pulled back to look into his friend's eyes, which were closed in pain. Gently, he shook those strong shoulders. "No, Benny. This is *Heaven.* It's everything you could ever want, everything you didn't even know you wanted, and you'll know you'll be happy for the rest of eternity -- not happy in some mindless, stupid way, but happy because you're right, and it's right, and there's just nothing to be unhappy *about.*" 

Fraser's eyes pressed open to dark slits. "Yes, Ray." 

"Oh, Benny," Ray crooned sadly. "Benny, you can't imagine." He darted a look behind them. The door still shimmered. "I could show you." 

"No!" Fraser grabbed him close again, pressing their foreheads together for the distant pressure of it, arms impervious, impenetrable. "Stay with me, please. Don't leave me. Let me be enough to keep you here." 

"Aw, Benny," Ray murmured. "It's not like that at all. We don't have to be afraid of that ever again." 

A minute or so passed, perhaps. "Afraid of what, Ray?" 

"Afraid of not being together. We *are* together. The universe, God, Heaven...it's all just understood. And besides, you shouldn't pretend that if I had to go through the door you wouldn't come too." 

Fraser pulled his head back enough to stare at him, and Ray saw with a grin that even in the washed-out world Benny's eyes were still that knock-you-down blue. 

"You know I would, Ray?" 

The detective's smile was dazzling. "Of course, Benny. You're in love with me." 

Fraser blinked, and felt he had missed something. For the first time, Ray mentioned his friend's unwanted love without a hint of distaste. What had Ray seen in that door? The power of it was still burning in those extraordinary eyes. It was like when Ray was hot on a case, or really angry, or allowing his compassion to show. 

"And you don't mind anymore?" he asked finally. 

Ray shook his head. "I never 'minded,' Fraser, not like that." He smiled dreamily now. "It's nice, actually." 

Fraser's hands gripped Ray's shoulders hard. "What's happened, Ray? What's going on?" 

Vecchio laughed, openly, with delight. "Benny, I just saw Heaven! Well, I smelled it, anyway. You should freak out if I *didn't* get all squirrelly for a while." He laughed again, as though his bones were noodles, then forced himself sober when Fraser's grip tightened. 

"Benny...it's like getting all the money in the world, sort of. I mean, think about it if you were going to get all the money in the world." 

"Heaven is like money, Ray?" Fraser allowed his disbelief to show clearly. It was obvious Ray wasn't going to be taking offense at anything right now. 

"No, of course not. This is like, you know, an analogy." 

"All right, Ray." 

The shorn, smooth head nodded sagely. "Now, imagine you're going to get all the money in the world. And you're thinking, 'Can I buy this? Is it okay for me to buy that?' And you see, you're not thinking right because you're going to have all the money in the world, all the money there *is.* So you can buy anything. But that's too big, so you keep worrying about the details. You know, like the specifics matter, but they don't." 

"Because I have all the money in the world," Fraser repeated, unenlightened. 

"Right. And that's what Heaven is like. Everything will be fine. The details don't matter, because you know the outcome. You and me, Benny. It's only going to be fine if we're together, so we will be. I don't know if that means we had to die together and now we gotta walk through the door together, or if maybe if we had died years apart we just would have both been together right after. So you shouldn't worry that I'm going to leave you. I can't leave you, and you can't leave me." 

Fraser smiled at last. This, finally, he did understand. 

"No, Ray. I could never leave you." 

Ray looked just a little uncomfortable, and Fraser realized with guilt he felt relief. Ray without occasional discomfort wouldn't be Ray anymore. 

"You shouldn't even worry about the sex part, Benny," Ray got out. "I mean, I don't know if people have sex in Heaven, or what, but whatever it is, whatever it is you...uh...want with me, something just as good's gonna be there for us, okay?" 

Dead or not, Fraser felt stunned down to his absent bones. 

"And you'll be amenable to that, Ray?" 

Vecchio shrugged and looked mischievous and content. "Since it won't actually be sex, I'm sure I'll be okay with it. I mean, it'll be Heaven, right?" He laughed, and this time, tentatively, Benny joined in. 

"Just trust me that it'll be great, Benny." 

Fraser let him go, keeping close, however, in case Ray got to looking at that door again. "I trusted you since the moment you walked up to me at the Consulate and didn't hate me for being right about the agent from Internal Affairs, Ray. Since the moment you didn't even seem to realize some people might hate me for it." The Mountie nodded, and suddenly felt once again the weight of his hat on his head. "You've never let me down." 

Ray frowned. "Except that one time, you said." 

Fraser took a step back, away from the door, down the hall. "Well, there was that." 

Ray followed him, hands coming up. "And now we're dead you gonna tell me about that one time, Fraser? 'Cause I'd really like to know what you think you were throwing up at me while we're almost drowning in that stupid vault." 

Fraser only barely kept himself from dancing with delight. 

"It was nothing, Ray. You really shouldn't think about it." 

"Not think about it?! How'm I supposed to not think about it when you won't give?" 

"Well, maybe in Heaven you'll just know, Ray." 

"Benny!" Ray's cry was almost anguished, then he careened into his friend's back, losing the breath he didn't actually have, but still feeling winded. "Benny!" 

The Mountie turned to him slowly, rapt with the possibility of insight. 

"What?" Ray asked, edging back. 

"Ray, what if that's what we're doing wrong?" 

"You wanna try Heaven now after all?" Ray asked, stepping back again and smiling. 

"No." Fraser shook his head impatiently. "I mean, what if we're just supposed to know?" 

"Know what?" 

"Who they are." At Ray's look, he tried again: "Who the people are who are offering their professional assassination services to prisoners." 

"How can we know that? We haven't even got a...name..." Ray stared at him. He looked around the hallway. It had become daytime. There were Mounties walking around them. Ray stepped out of some tall guy's way, scowled, and then watched the world around them fold in on itself. 

Diefenbaker perked up. 

"Why did you bring us here, Ray?" 

The 27th Precinct bullpen was swarming with chaos and subdued at the same time. Some guy with dirty pants was claiming to be a businessman late for some super-important meeting. Three women in red dresses were claiming to anyone who would listen that they were a singing duo who just happened to have some handcuffs and anti-gag cream in their purses "for the act." A bike messenger was swearing out a complaint against someone who had smeared dog feces on his bike -- and had brought in the evidence to support his case. 

And to the businessman, Jack Huey simply nodded. The red women got sympathetic murmurs. The bike messenger was given a cup of coffee and asked if he wanted a shower in the locker room. 

"What the hell's going on?" Ray demanded, striding over to his desk. "It's like *Night of the Living Dead* in here." He glared at the clean surface. Someone must have cleared out his stuff at last. But there was his pencil holder, and there was his soccer ball. 

"Ray," Benny called softly, and the detective turned to see his Statue of Liberty on Elaine's desk. Ray shook his head, then looked around. His snowglobe was on Huey's desk, and his Gumby was on Welsh's. 

"What the hell is this?" Ray stomped around, and Diefenbaker followed him, his tail wagging. 

"Elaine," Huey called. "What's with the wolf?" 

Bresbiss shrugged, keying in a search on bike-smearers. 

"They all have something from your desk," Fraser noted. 

"That's sick!" Ray announced, though his eyes were wide with compassion and his heart's feelings so close to the surface that Benny wondered why his friend was bothering with the show. Habit, he supposed. 

Ray looked at him, and dropped it. 

"Seriously, Benny. They shouldn't be doing this. We've been dead..." He looked at a report on Jack's desk. "...eleven days now. They shouldn't be mourning either of us like this." 

"Perhaps, Ray, but sometimes people don't do exactly what they're supposed to. Besides, it seems more an act of remembering you than of mourning you." Fraser turned from Elaine's desk and looked at his friend. Ray looked particularly handsome in that suit. He was glad it was Ray's favorite, though he supposed in time both of them would wear something different. He himself really didn't want to spend eternity in the dress reds. 

Now...having Ray take him *out* of his dress uniform, now there was something to spend eternity doing. Except that he'd lost his body, the body only Victoria had known with any true intimacy of body and soul. What a waste that had been. 

Victoria. It was odd how death took the pain away from thoughts of her. He had hunted her, then loved her, then mourned her and felt guilty over her, then loved her again, then hated her, then loved her, then lost her...pointless. Victoria was strong and beautiful, but the darkness in her wasn't some sort of illness. She *was* darkness, and her beauty was of the night, of the rapture of a man who laid down in the snow and surrendered to death. 

Ray...even in death he was life, and all the goodness that life could bring. 

Would Heaven have some way for him to bury himself inside Ray and know the life of him the way he had wanted to know it for so long now? A way that wasn't sex? Could they just join or unite spiritually, or something? Could it possibly be as nice as a kiss? 

"Well, they should be getting on with their lives, Benny," Ray was grousing now. "Do they think either of us would want them going around with long faces forever?" 

"It's only been eleven days, Ray," Fraser soothed. "And besides, I think it's...sweet." 

Ray gagged. 

Diefenbaker growled slightly and went to Fraser's feet. He stared up at the Mountie, then walked in a little circle, an indication that the ghost was to follow. 

"What is it, Dief?" 

The wolf bounded to the door, and Ray rolled his eyes. 

"I think he needs to go out," Huey noted. 

"Yeah," Elaine said around the pen between her teeth. 

Jack looked at her, then sighed and stood up, grabbing a leash from on top of the file cabinet by Welsh's door. He hooked Dief up, then opened the door. Dief whined. 

"You said you needed to go," Huey said impatiently. "Now *go.*" 

Dief whined again, then went out. Huey followed. 

"They should have sent him back home by now," Fraser noted, not quite a complaint, then turned to Ray. "You still haven't said what we're doing here." 

"I think best here," Ray said, perching on his desk, throwing up the image of his soccer ball. "And that's what we've got to do, isn't it? Think." He looked at the ball in resignation. "Just think." 

"Ray?" 

"Aw, it's all gone, isn't it, Fraser? The challenge of thinking things out, following clues, even shaking up a suspect. We don't gotta think about any of that stuff anymore; we just gotta think, 'Who's the bad guy?' and that's that." 

"We don't know that, Ray." 

"Yes, we do, Benny." And Vecchio held out his hand, beckoning his friend to the desk. Fraser walked carefully to him, then stood, staring into those green eyes still burning, still bright. He knew what Ray wanted, and thought with him of who it could be, who could make their life killing others for money, killing law enforcement officers who had done nothing more than their job because a prisoner somewhere was able to get enough money together to pay them for a bomb in a child's cassette recorder, or for a rape and murder, or a shot through the head by a gun registered to duck hunters, or some other awful, unspeakable crime. 

"His foot was over the line." 

"You're an asshole." 

"Piss off, shithead." 

"Charming." 

A man and a woman in a tastefully decorated New York apartment sat watching Monday Night Football. The man wore a Harvard sweatshirt over jeans. The woman was in gray sweats. Two beers and a gilt box full of cocaine ornamented the low, mother-of-pearl-inlaid coffee table. 

Ray walked up the brief stairs from the living room to the study. The view through the windows was proof the rent on this place was astronomical: sky-scrapers and the Hudson in evening light. Ray looked over the papers on the desk, then his eyes looked up to find Benny's, sharing bleakness. 

"So," the Mountie asked. "It's them?" 

"Yeah." Ray looked at the couple on the sofa in disgust. "They're planning the next one: some cop in Fargo next Thursday gets to watch his wife get shot in the head." 

"We'll stop that." Fraser meant to be reassuring, but his voice was flat. He couldn't stop himself from the distraction. "I wonder what Dief wanted." 

"To be let out." 

The world folded again and they were back at the station. Elaine sat at her desk, keying in names, crossing them against other vandals. Mr. Bike Messenger wasn't in sight, but his bike was. Someone had thrown some plastic sheeting over it. 

Ray walked over to Elaine's side. It was time to end this. 

"Nathaniel Horgrove!" he shouted. "Nathaniel Horgrove and Carver!" 

Huey came in, dragging Dief and cursing under his breath. When he slipped the leash, Diefenbaker "woofed" quietly, then bounded over to Fraser, his ears up. 

"'I'm sure he wants something, Ray." 

"What the heck is this?" Elaine muttered, then keyed in some information, her eyes going wide. A few minutes more, and she was finding out about Carver's last visitor in prison. 

Ray walked to his friend's side, nodding to the wolf who panted at his feet. 

"I think we've done enough now, Benny." 

Fraser looked at him. "Can we see what Dief needs first, Ray?" 

Vecchio smiled. "Sure, Benny. Whatever you and fuzzball want." 

Fraser's eyes sparkled just a little in the washed-out world. "I might hold you to that, Ray." 

The detective laughed, then looked down. "Don't worry, Dief. I'm sure they got donuts and Milk Duds in Heaven." 

The wolf sniffed with quiet dignity, then slunk under the line of chairs suspects were often cuffed to, not without complaint. 

"What'd I say?" Ray wanted to know, but even then Diefenbaker moved quietly towards the door, unseen. Ray met Benny's eyes, then followed, Fraser at his side. They waited until the Fed Ex guy came through, then went out with Dief, down the hall, out to the street, down to the bus stop. 

Fraser watched Dief sit and wait for his illegal ride, wondering what had made his friend so serious and quiet. Could Dief be leading them to another door? Was this really Dief at all, or an angel to guide them? 

He took Ray's hand. His human friend held on so tightly he could actually feel it. 

"Don't worry, Benny. There's nothing to be afraid of." 

Fraser closed his eyes, and there wasn't anything then for him but the feel of Ray's hand and the image of each letter of Ray's words. He had feared death for so long, instinctively, and the power of that fear had kept him alive, had made him fall in love with the woman who helped him stay alive, had shown him the way to survive over ice and through blizzard, in the streets and without a gun. 

But Ray said there was nothing to fear, and there *had* been the smell of immortality among the ghost of Armani cologne and sweet-salt skin. And besides, he had trusted Ray with his soul for so long he did not know how to take it back. 

"It's only fair, anyway," Fraser stated. 

"What's that, Benny?" 

"If you were willing to come with me to Canada, I suppose I shouldn't balk at going with you to Heaven." 

Ray laughed. "Fewer bugs in Heaven, too." 

"You don't feel that insects deserve immortality, Ray?" 

"No, I do not." 

The bus came up, and the driver opened the door to Diefenbaker with a nod. The wolf climbed up, followed by the ghosts of his pack, and they all took their stations behind the driver's seat. 

"So, do I get to change my clothes in Heaven, Ray?" 

Vecchio shrugged, looking with pity on the bus' passengers. "Sure, if you want, Benny. But why wait? We've done our duty, right?" 

Fraser looked down at himself. "Yes, Ray." 

"So if not the uniform, what? Jeans and a plaid shirt? Or maybe just the white Henley?" 

The Mountie smiled, hearing that oh-so-slight change in tone, and in a minute he wasn't a Mountie anymore, just a man in his best jeans and the spotless Henley. His Stetson, of course, stayed, and Ray looked like he approved. 

Diefenbaker stood up and went to the yellow line, and the bus driver pulled up at the next stop and opened the door. The pack went out, but Ray's questions died on his lips. It was obvious they were headed to the Cook County Hospital, and moreover Dief seemed quite hyper about it as they crossed the street, his tail up, his legs skimming the ground in a half-run. 

"Oh, God," Ray breathed. 

"You don't think...?" 

Ray's eyes met his as they reached the sidewalk. "That someone else was hurt besides us?" He shook his head. "I should have thought of that." 

The Mountie uniform almost shimmered back, but Ray put a hand on his friend's arm. 

"I'm sure whatever help we can be, it's just as two dead guys, Benny, not as cops." 

Fraser nodded. "I'm sure you're right." He frowned. "I suppose when dealing with eternity it's best not to rely on uniforms anyway." 

Ray laughed, then shrugged, almost apologizing. "It's just weird how everything sounds so profound when you're talking about the afterlife." Ray voice dropped. "The afterlife will not be televised." Then he laughed again. 

Fraser smiled, happy that his friend was happy, and walked through the lobby with a quietly slinking Diefenbaker. They paused, hid behind the gurney, then sprinted for the elevator. Dief scrabbled up the wall and pressed the button for the fifth floor with his nose, then hid behind the frame until the doors slid shut. 

"You know, when Dief makes it to Heaven we're gonna have to have a talk," Ray muttered. 

"And you know he's going to be in Heaven because it wouldn't be Heaven without him?" Fraser hazarded. 

Ray beamed. "You're really getting the hang of it, Benny." 

"Well, I agree that there must be room in Heaven for wolves, Ray." 

"I don't think he's a wolf," Ray grumbled. "A little person in a fur suit, maybe." 

"Now, Ray..." 

"I don't think he's deaf, either." 

"Ray! I tended to his ears myself when they were bleeding from his burst drums." 

"Burst eardrums heal, Benny. I think he's been having us on." 

The doors opened and Dief padded silently into the hall. 

"There's no reason to accuse Diefenbaker of deception just because he's compensated so well for his handicap, Ray." 

Vecchio rolled his eyes. "Sure, Benny. Whatever you say." 

The wolf darted behind the nurse's station, and a minute later two nurses emerged from behind a glass wall which slid shut silently behind them. 

"You see, Ray?" Fraser said in triumph. "He didn't hear them coming. He felt the vibrations through the floor." 

"Er, right." Ray rolled his eyes again. 

"I know," one of the nurses said as they approached the station to make notes in their files, "but it's still a little creepy. I mean, I swear sometimes they're mumbling about the same thing." 

"That's not so weird," the older nurse said, folding up the file and placing it in the rack. "I worked on an appendectomy where the guy started muttering stuff out of the newspaper under the gas. Surgeon almost wet himself." 

"Ha! There's a sight." The younger nurse looked back towards the glassed-in room and then put her own file up as well. "It's almost been two weeks, though. If they're not going to improve, we need to free up the room." 

"Hmm. Coffee?" 

"Why not?" 

The men watched the nurses walk away, then watched as Diefenbaker came out from behind the counter and walked to the glass door to sit staring in. 

Ray and Benny followed and peered through the glass, seeing two figures on white beds laying flat and hooked up to monitors and IV drips. Their faces weren't visible from this angle, but from the face of the person on the right rose the visible tip of a nose. 

And Ray walked through the glass without even thinking about it. He *knew* that nose. 

But he turned almost instantly from his own thin, pale face to Benny's, stumbling slightly at hollow cheeks and bloodless skin. 

"Ray?" Fraser stood by him in the white shirt he had donned for eternity. "We're alive." 

"We're in comas, Benny. We're dying." 

The body on the bed moved as a man might in his sleep. "Ray," the lips mumbled. 

Vecchio stepped back until his body was up against his own bed. "No," whispered a voice from behind him. 

"No," Ray moaned, echoing himself. 

Fraser turned to him, blue eyes shining, mouth wide in a smile that sank Ray's heart. Then Fraser's spirit turned to its body and moved forward, preparing... 

"No!" Ray was across the room in a thought, pulling back at that those white, broad shoulders. "God, no, Benny, please!" 

Fraser turned to him, clearly puzzled. 

"But, Ray. We're alive. We just need to get back into our bodies and we can wake up." 

"Wake up to what, Fraser? We've been in comas for two weeks, and God knows what's wrong with us besides that. We're mumbling in comas! We could be vegetables, unable to walk, or who knows what?" Ray pulled again, taking Benny's spirit into his own spirit's arms. "We can just go to Heaven now, Benny. You and me. We've earned it." 

"And we'll earn it again, Ray, when it's our time." 

"You just don't want to die!" Ray accused. 

Benny leaned back, making eye contact. "Is that such a bad thing, Ray?" 

Vecchio closed his eyes. "I don't want to go back to what I was, Benny. I've been handed this incredible gift. I'm not afraid anymore, I'm not worried anymore. I know things and I can't stand the idea of forgetting them." 

"You believed in Heaven before, Ray." 

Those green eyes opened now, dark with fear. "Yes, but I didn't *know* about it, didn't have the memory of that smell. And I didn't know people at the station actually gave a rat's ass about me, or that you love me." 

Fraser's smile was painful. "You said you didn't want to know, Ray." 

"But now I've gotten used to it." Ray's eyes, impossibly, were laughing at him. "Oh, Benny. So I have some problems with the sex thing, but I love you. Of *course* I want to know you love me back! And if we get into our bodies I'll lose everything I've gained." 

"But Heaven will still be there, and I'll still be there." 

"Will you?" Ray shook his head. "You're going to go back to wanting me and loving me and never telling me a single damn word about it. And one day you'll go back to Canada and I won't have the guts to follow you and I'll be alone and miserable for the rest of my lousy life. Who's to say I won't lose my way then? Maybe I'll end up going postal and losing my ticket to Heaven." 

Benny gave him a knowing look. "Now you're being silly, Ray. Obviously if I get to Heaven you'll be there, and if you're not...then I'll have to annoy the angels until they send me to wherever you end up." 

But Ray was in no mood for teasing. "Obviously, we won't be together in Hell, Fraser!" 

"Why not?" 

"Because then it wouldn't be Hell anymore!" 

And Fraser sobered completely, staring into those terrified green eyes. The choice was easy, really. 

"All right, Ray." 

Vecchio frowned. "All right what?" 

Fraser shrugged. "If you want to die, then we'll do it." He looked back through the glass door. Diefenbaker was watching them, his eyes pleading as though the man were holding out a thick steak with a donut on top. "Which door do we go through?" 

"Do you mean it, Benny?" 

Fraser looked down at himself on the bed. Ray was right. They were obviously very ill. But illness didn't frighten him, nor did death, now, he realized. All that scared him anymore was the thought of some day not being at Ray Vecchio's side. 

And so he looked into his friend's true face and nodded, then slowly, savoring what might be his last chance, he leaned in and kissed the apparition of his friend's lips. 

In terms of sensation, there was almost nothing: a faint pressure, a distant sweetness. But when Ray got over what seemed a small case of shock and kissed back, the warmth that bloomed in his mind was a cold fire, rose-red and sharp as life. 

"I could never leave you, Ray," he murmured against Ray's mouth, and the man laughed. 

"Tickles a little." Ray's face smiled at him, and then turned, searching for their door. 

And then Ray was standing there, his face that curious vulnerable blank face Fraser had seen so often before. 

Dief's pleading eyes were looking at Ray now. A paw came up to the glass. 

Fraser tried so hard to suppress his smile that when his body on the bed giggled he felt betrayed by the entire universe. Bracing himself for Ray's wrath, he was undone when his friend simply looked at him in despair. 

"You could explain to him that we'll meet up in Heaven," Fraser offered. "I'm sure he'll understand." 

"And how about Ma?" Ray said, bowing to the inevitable with his usual alacrity. "And everyone at the station with my stuff on their desk? And how about Frobisher and your dad's ghost and the Dragon Lady and everyone in your building and Frannie and Maria and..." Ray's smile surfaced, wickedly. "...and seeing Frannie's face when she finally realizes just which Vecchio you're really after?" 

"Now, Ray." The reprimand was without force. 

But Ray had wound down, standing there not looking into Dief's eyes. 

"Will you live with me, Ray?" 

He shrugged. "Sure, if you'll move out of that flea-pit." 

"No, I didn't mean...oh." Benny stared at him. "I'm going to hold you to that, Ray, whether either of us remembers any of this or not." 

"Oh, I'm going to remember," Ray vowed. "I'm going to remember all of it if God Himself comes up and asks for it back." He shook himself. "So, you ready, Benny?" 

"As I'll ever be, Ray." 

That made the detective smile, and slowly they broke from each other's embrace and backed towards their beds, looking only into the other's face. Finally, there was nothing left between them and their beds, and the bodies in them. 

Ray took the lead, knowing Benny wouldn't push him, and began to lean back... 

@@@ 

Darkness, of course, and Benton Fraser was swimming. 

He wasn't in pain, exactly, but it was incredibly unpleasant. He was drowning more than swimming, and his arms were just flailing around. 

His heartbeat was loud and clumsy, and the water was thick with mud. Was this Lake Michigan? He'd die from the poisons. But that was the point, right? Not dying. 

He pushed up, and *knew* the surface was above him somewhere. His arms steadied into a rhythm, one, two, three, four...until he reached a hundred and started again at one. 

How was he breathing? His ears were filled with it and he couldn't hear anything except his heart and the rasp of his breath. God, he was tired. 

Up! Up, damnit! The surface couldn't be too much farther, could it? He'd break out and then he could rest. He was so weak. 

No! His arms weren't allowed to slow, and now that he thought about it, he got his feet into the act, kicking and kicking at the muddy lake, forcing him up to the air. 

He was dying, too weak to make it, his arms were slowing. His legs were useless. 

He told himself he was a Mountie and didn't even get his heart to beat faster. 

*Ray. Ray is up there, waiting for me. If I die, he'll be so angry with me.* 

And now he was pushing again, and pulling too with his arms, against the water. Push and pull, up and up and further up until the surface *had* to be there. It had too. 

"Benny?" a rasp, almost a voice, a command and a plea and there was such insistence in it he opened his eyes in the dark, horrible water to see the skin-wrapped skeleton of his friend's God-lovely face. A few feet away, there was some sort of commotion: people were coming. A wolf whined. 

"Ray?" he wheezed. 

"I remember, Benny," Ray's skeleton said, and then there were people in white everywhere, and Fraser didn't know if he'd lived or died or why Ray was falling from him, or how he could keep his eyes open another second. 

And the darkness returned, but not the water. 

@@@ 

Elaine hung up the phone, and took a breath before she looked up into a dozen pair of eyes trying to drill their way through her skull. Huey's face was tight, Welsh's resigned, her own...God knew. 

"He woke up," she said, surprising everyone in the room and shocking the hell out of Welsh. 

"What?" the lieutenant asked, his coffee cup just seeming to float their next to his hand. It didn't quite fall to the floor. 

"He woke up," Elaine pronounced with care, "walked over to Fraser's bed and woke him up too." Someone did a little gasp. "The nurse said they're probably both going to be fine." 

They all stared at each other for several seconds, even the suspects and criminals allowing a respectful silence. 

Then Huey shook his head and said with overt affection: 

"That son of a bitch." 

@@@ 

Fraser hadn't slept so much even after he was shot in the back. Of course, the doctors explained, this had been more difficult for his body in many ways than that had. 

They'd been in comas, and their brains were still showing signs of that long hibernation: temporary lack of fine muscular control, blurred vision, sensitivity to sounds. But they'd both in been restless comas -- remarkable only in that their restlessness had been so strangely mutual -- and that meant their bodies were also exhausted and sore from the unaccustomed muscle usage. They'd both been strapped down during the worst of it, but there'd been no way to stop them from grinding their teeth and drawing every muscle tight over and over. 

The first few days of recovery had been spent mostly in sleep and responding as best they could to the occasional visitor. They'd been moved from ICU soon after that first return to consciousness, but they'd been placed in the same recovery room after Ray had thrown his impressive tantrum. 

Only Benny knew the anger was an act, though he didn't know why. Ray's voice and body language had been the same...just different. Fake. He wanted to ask what was happening, but he and Ray had not yet had not a moment alone when both were conscious. 

So he did his best, following Ray's lead. When the doctors had asked what they'd dreamed of in their comas, Benny had said he couldn't remember. When the doctors had described their restlessness, Benny had feigned great surprise. When the doctors had produced the read-outs of their abnormal brain waves, Benny had displayed his most baffled cluelessness, and when one of the doctors all but accused him of hiding something, Benny had let his eyes fill with hurt innocence. 

Of course, the doctors were still being gentle. The woman in front of him was not. 

"I'd like more information than that, Constable," Inspector Thatcher stated. 

*And I'd like to know if Ray remembers that I love him.* The thought stung him with its bitterness. He closed his eyes against it and the harsh light the inspector seemed to be radiating. Over these last days, Ray's eyes had sought his across both hospital rooms, and there had been warmth and affection there, along with the exhaustion, but what did that mean? What did it count for? Even now Ray was sleeping, his soft snoring noises impacting equally on Benny's heart and his groin. Ray had said he remembered, but *what* did he remember? 

Fraser remembered every bit of it...or almost. He remembered that Ray had seen Heaven, that they had been to the station house twice, that Buck Frobisher had been talking to his father, and that once, towards the end, he had kissed Ray. But he wasn't sure Ray had kissed him back, or how, exactly, he had talked his friend into getting back into their bodies. 

"I'm sorry, sir," Fraser said. "I was in a coma at the time." 

"Your wolf leaves the 27th Precinct, comes here, and then Detective Vecchio wakes up, wakes you up, out of a two-week coma, and you don't have any idea how that could have happened." 

*Ray saw Diefenbaker,* Fraser remembered with a little explosion of light that made him wince. *And then he thought of his family.* 

"None, sir," he gasped. 

"Ma'am?" a quiet female voice asked from the door. 

Slowly, Thatcher turned. 

"I'm afraid it's time for the patient to sleep. You may come back here tomorrow at ten." 

Dark eyes flashed over an impeccably tailored shoulder. "I'll be back then, Fraser." 

"Understood, sir." 

She walked out. The nurse took his pulse, tipped him a wink, and checked his IV. Both he and Ray were still getting fluids to help offset the dehydration. 

"Let me know if you have trouble sleeping," she told him. "We're moving the two of you tomorrow to the east wing, and you'll both get some therapy to help you get back on your feet." 

"It's nice?" he asked inanely, not wanting her to go. "The east wing?" 

"Oh, yes. You'll be able to spend some time out on the lawn in the afternoons, get some sunshine to get your color back." 

"Sounds nice." 

She smiled and walked out, turning off the lights, and Fraser closed his eyes with resolution. 

Ray chuckled softly. "I thought for a minute there we were going to have to fake relapses to get the Dragonlady outta here." 

Fraser smiled and opened his eyes. Ray's voice sounded so *normal.* 

"The inspector is concerned about what happened to someone under her command, Ray. It's quite understandable that my inability to explain why I lay in hospital for two weeks evidently carrying on a conversation with my unofficial partner who was similarly indisposed would be...a source of frustration." 

"Just as long as she keeps her mitts off," Ray muttered. 

Fraser flagrantly disobeyed hospital rules and sat up in his bed. "What did you say?" 

"I see the way she looks at you," Ray said mildly enough as he sat up as well. It occurred to Fraser that if they kept their voices down they wouldn't be disturbed, and the pulse he had managed to control as the inspector disemboweled him with her eyes shot up to three times normal. "It's like she can't decide whether to shoot you or rip your clothes off. I swear, sometimes I think she's worse than Frannie." 

"Ray? How much do you remember?" 

Ray grinned, his face just a little more normal after a few days of being fed every few hours by the hospital and snuck snacks whenever Mrs. Vecchio came to visit. 

"Enough to know it'll be a while before I trust you in a closet again." 

Fraser felt his stomach sink to his knees. Ray took one look at his expression and grabbed the IV tree. With a grunt, he pushed back his covers and set his bare feet on the floor. 

"Ray?" 

"Ugh. Just a minute, Fraser," the detective muttered. It took him a few minutes, leaning heavily on the tree the whole time, but Vecchio made it to Benny's bed, rested against it, then managed to sit up on the side where Fraser now sat. If his legs -- the ligaments of one badly strained by the explosion -- had been able to hold him up, Fraser would have carried his friend back into his own bed, but as it was he could only put his hands on Ray's waist, holding him steady. 

"Oh, remind me not to try that again soon," Ray breathed as his body leaned against Benny's. Minutes passed as Ray caught his breath, then he turned and got one arm over his friend's shoulders. 

"Ray?" Benny asked helplessly. 

"Benny, I'd love to tell you I want to rip your clothes off, but frankly I'm not in any shape to make love with anyone for a while, so we're going to have to take this slow, all right?" 

"Do you want to make love with me, Ray?" Benny asked, his voice flat with doubt. 

Ray chuckled, and pressed up against him in awkward intimacy before turning the whole thing into a prolonged hug. "I love you, Benny. You know that. And I want to make you happy. I'm sure the sex part will work out in time." 

At first, Benny was too distracted to think about Ray's words. The body in his arms...good Lord...in his bed was so thin, but it burned off that Vecchio heat, and even under the medicine and soap that was still Ray's Heaven-smell, even sweeter than he remembered. Ray's hair was a little long for his shorn style and tickled Fraser's ear, and there were whiskers on those cheeks that rubbed his shoulder where Ray's chin rested. 

And Ray was so pliant, so firmly wrapped around him, that despite the painkillers for his leg Fraser felt himself grow warm. The mere idea of its actually being possible to hold Ray beneath him, above him, with him... 

But Ray's words were too disturbing to be ignored for long. 

"I don't want you to become physical with me just to humor me, Ray." He tried to end the hug and couldn't. He'd wanted Ray close for too long. 

"Oh, don't get snippy," Ray murmured, and Fraser felt Ray's smile against his cheek, skin and whiskers. "A few sessions kissing your cute little lips and I'm sure I'll be begging for more." 

"It's not a joke, Ray." 

"Benny, just don't *worry,* all right? We've been through too much to worry over this. When we're all healed up we're going to figure everything out, okay? That includes the sex stuff." And Ray leaned back and around until his lips were next to Benny's and Fraser stopped breathing. 

Warm and soft, prickling with whiskers above and below, tasting a little of the orange juice Ray had been sipping. Over too quickly, but there was no protest when Benny sought a second kiss, and then, so gently, a third. 

They pulled back enough for Ray to smile into his eyes, and the hand not holding the IV brushed through Fraser's hair. 

"You believe I love you now, Mr. Skeptical?" 

Benny looked down at the white sheet, then realized where his eyes were really looking and looked up at the ceiling, his face red. 

"Benny?" 

"You do love me, Ray. But you don't desire me." 

Ray put his head on Benny's shoulder. "I will. Just give it time." 

"Ray." A small, sad sound. 

"Shhh, Benny." And then Ray's hands were settling his friend back in the bed. "You're tired and you're not thinking things through. Sleep now." 

Fraser watched Ray's regal hands fuss about the bed, pulling the covers up, settling the pillows, before reaching up to touch his cheeks, first the left, then the right, then smooth back over his forehead. Finally, long fingers stroked through his hair, over and over, soothing the dizziness in his belly, relaxing his muscles, taking the pains away, until the warmth and his own exhaustion did the rest. 

The next time he woke, Ray was back in his own bed, snoring softly. The next time, it was morning, and they were being moved to the east wing. 

It was three days before they could talk properly again, three days of physical therapy that left them both exhausted, three days of being taken off the drugs, three days of eating and drinking and going to the bathroom because neither of them could stand bed-pans and because they wanted the additional exercise no matter how tired they were. 

They spent hours out in the garden, in the shade for the most part, and Nurse Browne was right: their color returned along with their strength. 

The days were also filled with questions, but inevitably the focus was shifting away from them towards Elaine Bresbiss and Jack Huey. After all, Vecchio and Fraser were only the victims of the professional assassination ring that catered to convicts seeking revenge on the officers who had arrested them. Elaine and Jack were the civilian aide and officer who cracked the ring and led the way to the multiple arrests. 

The headlines were screaming about the case of the century, and Fraser had worried that Ray would resent getting no credit for the collar so much that he'd tried to hide the paper from his friend when he found it outside on the bench. 

When Ray had finally seen it that evening when Frannie brought it to him, he'd only smiled and phoned Elaine to congratulate her. 

"Yeah," he told the woman on the other end of the phone, "I think they should pay your way through the academy. It was cracker-jack police work, and about time you got a badge." Ray looked over at Fraser and rolled his eyes. "I would, but he's asleep. I'll tell him you said hi....Yeah, you too." He hung up, and Frannie jabbed a finger into his chest. 

"You told her Benton was asleep!" she accused. 

"Yeah, so?" 

"Yesterday you told *me* he was asleep!" 

"He was!" 

She snorted. "Yeah, right." She turned to Fraser with a special little twist. "Is there anything I can do for you while you're in here, Benton?" 

"No, thank you, Frannie. The hospital and Ray are more than enough for me right now." 

Frannie frowned over his choice of words, but shrugged it off. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." She reached down to give Ray a kiss on the cheek -- her habit every day since they'd been in the hospital -- and walked out. 

"Planting the seeds there, Fraser?" Ray asked with a smile. 

Ray was sitting on his bed, the window behind him, and Benny caught his breath at the picture he made, his eyes glowing and soft. His body temperature rose several degrees, and blood began to channel towards a central spot. His leg wasn't hurting him today, and if he weren't careful his condition would be all too evident through the thin hospital gown. 

"It can't hurt to prepare her should you decide to reveal that our relationship is...something other than she believes." 

Ray sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Benny, Benny. Would you stop being so *careful?* We're gonna live together, for Pete's sakes." 

"You agreed to that under circumstances that I'm sure no one would expect you to --" 

"This ain't some court of law!" Ray pressed his lips shut. Fraser smothered a pleased inner tug. Ray was so unnaturally serene these days. 

"I love you, Benny. Would you *please* get that through your head?" 

With a glance at the closed door of their room, Fraser sat up slightly, spread his knees, and allowed the paper-like cloth to rest on his erection. Ray's eyes flickered, and he swallowed before he could smile. Fraser felt his face go tight and turned away, laying down and addressing the wall. 

"Do you understand now, Ray? I'm happy you love me, but you need to stop pretending you can just choose to be attracted to me. I don't want chaste kisses that work up to closing your eyes and pretending you're masturbating when you touch me. I don't want to force myself on you, and I can't stand the idea of taking you to bed so you can prove something to both of us." 

He closed his eyes. Even the wall was glaring at him. 

"I'll never leave you, Ray. You know that. I can stay here in Chicago and we can be close friends...best friends. You don't have to give me more than that to make me happy." 

He knew Ray was standing by the bed. He could feel the heat on his back. 

"Have you ever made love to a guy, Benny?" 

Fraser opened his mouth, then sighed. 

"I didn't think so." Ray's hand settled on that turned shoulder, so warm and gentle Fraser felt his heart thud as though he'd been groped. 

"So, you feel like going to Biggle's with me, Benny?" 

"Biggle's?" 

"Yeah, it's a sex shop over on Charleston. We could get some lube and butt-plugs and maybe check out some videos to brush up on our rimming techniques." 

With a hurt gasp, Fraser pulled away from Ray's hand and rolled off the bed, squaring off with his fists down at his sides. 

"Now who's uncomfortable?" Ray asked, his color high simply at the words he'd spoken. 

"I don't --" 

"And I don't either, Benny. Does that mean we're not serious here?" 

Fraser deflated slightly. "Then what was that about?" 

Ray shook his head. "That's about how things take some adjustment, some getting used to, all right? When I made love to my first woman after my divorce, I was a basket case. Nothing worked right, and thank God she understood or I think I would have sworn off sex for the rest of my life." Ray took a step forward, deep into Benny's personal space. "Can't you do that much for me, Benny? Can't you just give me a little time and little faith?" 

Benny felt the smile come easily. How did Ray always know the right thing to say? 

"I have nothing but faith in you, Ray." 

Ray's own smiled with brilliant. "Good. 'Cause I figure we're going to need to hang on to each other tight while we figure the rest of it out." 

"The rest of it?" 

Ray shook his head and moved forward once more, winding up in a sort of loose hug now. "You're not telling me you're just going to go back to being a Mountie, are ya, Fraser?" 

He blinked. "I hadn't really thought much of it, Ray. I suppose..." But there was nothing. He truly hadn't thought beyond what was happening between himself and Ray Vecchio. 

"Yeah," Ray sighed. "I sort of saw Heaven, Benny. I sure as anything felt it. I can't just go back to being a cop. Besides, for a while there, we could do it all, couldn't we? Sort of takes the thrill out of the chase." 

"We knew who the assassins were," Benny mused, "just by thinking that we *wanted* to know." 

"Yeah." Ray was quiet for a time, a long lovely time of sharing warmth. 

"And I figure I could do that again," Ray continued at last, "if I worked at it." He laughed. "And I don't want to end up with some sort of psychic helpline for a living, you know? And I don't want to be a freak on *Sixty Minutes.* And I don't want..." 

"What?" 

Ray ducked his head, pressing his face into Benny's neck. "I don't want to be a prophet, Fraser. I thought about it, you know? I really did. But it's not me. I mean, can you see me on television trying to explain about how Heaven is like having all the money in the world? And think of what that would do to Ma. It's going to be hard enough trying to convince her I'm okay when I quit the force. She's gonna think I've got brain damage or something." 

"Quit the force? What will you do instead?" 

"Like I know, Benny? What's an Italian Catholic in the Twentieth Century supposed to do once he's seen Heaven? Give testimony? And what about when I tell people I came back to my body because I couldn't disappoint a wolf?" 

Ray hugged him now in earnest. "Don't you see I need us as much as you do, Benny? I gotta have something to make the center of my life, because everything else has gone bananas. People are supposed to make something out of their gifts, but I'll be tied to a tree if I can figure out what to do with this one. But I'm betting it won't happen here in Chicago, and I'm betting I won't even recognize myself when I'm done." 

Ray broke off for a moody while, then sighed. "I'm not even sure you'll love me when I figure it out." 

"Of course I'll love you, Ray." 

"You better, Benny. I have a feeling I'll need it." 

Fraser tightened the embrace until he could feel Ray's heart beating. 

Vecchio sighed. 

"It sure would be easier if we were just two gay cops." 

@@@ 

They were to be released the next day, so their therapists were a little harder on them than normal. Fraser flexed his leg and didn't care about the distant ache. He'd healed quickly and cleanly, and within a week would be declared fit for active service. 

If he wanted active service. 

Fraser shook the thought off. Of course he wanted active service. He was a Mountie. The uniform had followed him into the spirit world. Ray could shed his job -- and probably should, considering everything that had happened to him -- but Benny's Mountie-ness went far down deep into his flesh. No doubt the readjustment period would involve some trial to his will, but sixteen years in the service tempered a man. He would resume his place smoothly and efficiently. 

Of course, the leg he'd injured just *had* to be the same one he'd been stabbed and shot in twice. 

"I swear, she gets a kick out of watching me suffer," Ray was moaning from where he lay sprawled across his bed. Fraser allowed himself to regret that they had both graduated out of their hospital gowns. Not that Ray's long legs weren't well-suited to the caressing contours of his sweats, but there had been something so...indecent about the idea of Ray Vecchio clothed in nothing but underwear and a thin robe open all the way down the back. 

"She's a professional therapist, Ray." The words were easy and automatic. "I'm sure she takes pleasure only in watching you recover." 

Ray snorted. "You can say that. Your guy can't stop kissing up to you now that he knows you're from Canada." Ray raised up his head for a stern look. "You *really* know his cousin in Edmonton, Benny?" 

The Mountie colored slightly, and Ray laughed. 

They both lay there looking at the ceiling for a while, then Ray sat up. 

"So, how are you feeling, Benny?" 

"Quite well, thank you, Ray." 

"Not tired?" 

"No." Fraser frowned. "Do you want to go for a walk, Ray?" 

"No, not really, Benny." But Ray did get off the bed and stretch, seemingly up from the sneaker-encased toes to his fingers held over his head. Fraser rolled over for a better view, unable to resist the sight of that long, lithe body elongating and twisting in an unconscious and unself-conscious movement that was almost a dance. 

And then Ray was standing there with his hands on his hips, smiling faintly. 

"You really find me attractive, Benny?" 

"Very much so, Ray." 

Those made-for-kissing lips smiled. "Wow." 

"In fact, I would have to say that if I were allowed to create someone to find attractive, that someone would look a lot like you." 

Ray grinned. "But female and with more hair, right?" 

"Actually, Ray, I've always been more attracted to men than women." 

Ray's jaw dropped. 

"It was one of the reasons Victoria was so important to me." Fraser looked down at the sneakers on his feet. "I'm not proud of having been relieved to be bisexual, Ray. The life of a homosexual Mountie is just as difficult as it is for any other homosexual law enforcement officer. It quickly became apparent to me as a young man that my...tendencies would only make my life more difficult. Indeed, until I met you, I had believed I had buried those feelings down so completely they weren't a part of me anymore." 

Benny's smile was rueful. "And then I went down to the holding cell, and there you were. Everything I found attractive in a man: slender, graceful, distinctive, sensual, with your incredible hands and green eyes -- do you know how few people in the world have green eyes, Ray? And they turn hazel when you're calm. It's extraordinary." Fraser looked at him, then away. "At first, I thought I was to be spared, as you were so brusque with me I felt quite safe from your physical charms. But then...you were so kind, so loyal, so *good.* I fought it for so long, but it was hopeless." 

"I don't have much of a chin." 

"Your chin is perfect." 

"My nose is huge." 

"It keeps your eyes from making you look feminine." 

Ray looked genuinely surprised. "Yeah? I hadn't thought of that one." 

"In fact, there is only one thing about you I would change," Fraser mused. 

"Too much neck?" 

"You must be joking. I've spent many nights dreaming about your neck." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yes. In fact, I have raised the issue before, Ray." 

"My neck?" 

"Your clothes, Ray," Fraser voice was timid and teasing at once, then rushed out: "They're too loose, remember?" 

Ray grinned, and his "Yeah?" this time was husky. 

"Even those sweat pants aren't helping," Fraser complained. "I think you purposefully choose sizes that are too large to hide your charms." 

Ray stood there a moment more, then walked over to the door and clicked the lock over. 

"Ray?" 

"You know, sometimes my great sense of timing amazes even me." Ray beamed. "It's two hours until we can have visitors, and this is supposed to be our post-therapy rest period, but I'm not feeling that tired, Benny. How about you?" 

Fraser swallowed the enormous lump in his throat. It didn't help. 

"My charms, huh, Benny?" Ray ran a hand over his chest, then stripped off his shirt. "And here I was hoping this whole time I could get you to suck on my nipples." Ray shook his head. "I have really sensitive nipples, you know. Ange used to tease me about them, the little minx." Ray pointed a long finger at his friend. "You are not to tease me about that, you understand me, Benny?" 

"Er...yes, Ray." 

Vecchio nodded., then heeled off his shoes, stripped off his socks and peeled himself out of his sweat pants. 

"Ray...Ray...RAY!" 

Vecchio stopped, his hands on his hips and his body bare of everything but the hospital-issue briefs. Even his Crucifix was missing. 

"Yeah?" 

"Ray...now?" 

The shorn (though slightly prickly) head nodded, and those green eyes shone. "Take 'em off, Benny." 

The protest surprised both of them: "It doesn't work this way." 

Ray waited a few beats. "What doesn't work what way?" 

"I don't know. It just seems...casual." 

"Casual?" Ray began to walk towards him, so very slowly. "Benny, we almost died. I saw Heaven! Everything I thought was true about my life isn't. Are you saying that getting physical now seems casual to you?" 

Fraser shook his head without conviction. 

Vecchio had reached him now, and simply took the bottom of Fraser's sweatshirt in his hand and pulled up. When it was free, he went after the T-shirt and Ray was standing there and Benny was sitting on the edge of his bed, and there was just a few inches of warm air between their bare chests. Fraser couldn't meet the man's eyes. 

"I'm not Victoria." 

Those eyes came up now, white-blue in shock. 

"I don't want to drive you so crazy we fall into bed for three days and forget about the rest of the world while it falls down around us. We're not under some frozen lean-to huddling together for warmth." Ray smiled so gently it was almost all in his eyes. "We're going to make love with our eyes open, slowly, and we're going to be happy about it. You been happy much in bed, Fraser?" 

Benny just looked at him. 

Ray sniffed. "Didn't think so." He stepped closer, then closer still until they were actually touching, a mere brush of flesh lasting all the way from breastbone to waist, a line of heat and the tickle of hair, and Fraser moaned, swaying forward for more. 

"Easy, Benny," Ray whispered, right before Benny's mouth swallowed further words and soft lips and the taste of sweet, moist *Ray* under his own open mouth and seeking tongue that pushed inside, getting more, inhaling, engulfing...When Ray pushed back, he pulled them roughly together and demanded another kiss, then another, hands pressing on the back that was smooth, hot skin over bone and long, lean muscles. A final struggle, and then he felt the laxness of surrender, mouth opening wider, body sagging against him, dark green eyes closing even as his own stayed open, guarding against the chance that Ray would change his mind. 

"Please, please, please," he was muttering through his kisses, breaking away from that mouth to scorch lines down and up an endless neck of soft skin silk-smooth near the shoulder and peppered with tiny whiskers under the chin. 

"Sure, Benny. You need it this way, do ya? Sure." 

The man groaned now, his hands pushing down Ray's body and grabbing *at last* two perfect handfuls of taut buttocks and pulling in and up against the place in his own body to which all his blood had long since rushed. Ray licked his ear and murmured something that made him press harder, his hips bucking from the mattress. 

Ray moved and Benny froze, but the man in his arms only whispered now, "Back on the bed, okay? The floor's too hard." 

The words were soft and affectionate, and nothing else. 

Fraser shoved Ray back and fled almost to the other side of the room, turning from him, arms straight now at his sides, fists ending like bolts in steel, leverage for control. He had to find control somewhere behind his clenched eyes. 

"Benny?" Ray's hand on his shoulder was hot. 

"Don't!" 

"What's going on? Benny, I don't understand." 

Fraser didn't move. 

"I know you want this, Fraser." 

"But you don't, Ray!" Fraser winced at the echo, waited to see what the punishment for his shouting would be, then forced his words quieter. "You don't want me, Ray. You love me, I know that, but..." 

"Oh, Benny." Ray's voice was sad, and the kiss behind his ear was soft. "I do want it. I do want you." 

"But what of me do you want, Ray? Do you -" He forced it, his words more breath than voice now, getting softer and more indistinct with each syllable. "Do you want me inside you? Do you want to be inside me? Do you want me to cherish you in my mouth until you scream? Do you want kisses all over your body and my tongue...Ray..." 

Ray kissed him again, down further on his neck. "Benny, you've been in love with me, and knew about it, for a long time. Fantasies build up, you know?" 

Fraser nodded, tendons under Ray's lips betraying the strain of it. 

Ray lapped at one sharp ridge. "I have some fantasies too, Benny. I want to see what your soul looks like. I want to see if we can touch our souls together. I want to walk through Heaven and have everyone there know we're not ever going to be apart. I want to ask God why he makes some people so good and use you for an example. I want...I want things I can't have, and I know, I really do, that being together really close has to involve sex -" 

"'Has to,' Ray?" 

"Because I can't get any closer to you than that until we die for real, and now that I'm away from it all, I gotta admit I'm not in any hurry to leave, what with Ma and all." Ray's hands had been insisting for some time that Fraser turn around. Together they managed a half-turn that allowed long, nimble fingers to weave paths through Fraser's hair and stoke his face. 

"Don't ya get it, Benny? You could throw a hundred naked women in here and I wouldn't know what to - well, I would *know* what to do with 'em, but I wouldn't want to. I want *you,* Benny. It's sex in general I'm a little...slow about right this minute." 

"'Slow?' Ray, you're not even -" 

Ray placed the softest kiss right there over Benny's jugular, smiling at the tremble it caused. 

"No, but I'm breathing hard, Benny. Can't you tell? And feel my heart." He took the man's unresisting but less-than-cooperative hand and placed it over the thump-thump-thump of his chest. "See?" 

"You're just nervous." Fraser's mouth was trying not to smile, and the frown over his clouded eyes grew heavier. 

"You're the nervous one," Ray chuckled. Benny's thumb flickered over his nipple and Ray shivered...or shuddered, Fraser wasn't sure which. "Come on, Benny. Bed." 

But Fraser couldn't unfreeze. "Are you sure you want this, Ray?" 

Ray looked down that slight distance necessary to be looking directly into Benny's eyes, then dropped his hand down between his friend's waist, fumbled just slightly, smiled, and petted the blood-heavy flesh right through the cotton. When Fraser gasped and shut his eyes, Vecchio turned the petting into a caress, and then a downright stroke. 

"Ray!" A death-grip on that strong, slender shoulder. 

Vecchio stopped negotiating and started navigating, getting Benny back on the bed with simple pressure and several clumsy steps. The man groaned as Ray sat at his side, pulled off the sweat pants and briefs, and then settled between his legs and put his hands on the blocky thighs, gazing down. 

"Didn't see many of these growing up," Ray murmured, fingering the drawn-back foreskin with his right hand, then wrapping his fingers around the length and stroking, stroking, smiling at the sound of it and the peek-a-boo dance of the flushed head. 

Benny groaned a few more times and came, fighting it the whole way. The orgasm had barely finished when the shame rose up, and he was certain Ray could read his entire aching lack of sexual expertise in on his body like a map. He tried to turn his head away, but he was still dizzy and managed only a weak loll. 

Then Ray was there, lying next to him, his face only inches away, his eye enormous. 

"God, Benny. When you came, you're so...wow." 

Fraser tried to think of something to say, then lost the cohesion of his few remaining thoughts when Ray brought up his extremely wet and sticky hand and sniffed. When Ray look a tentative lick, he moaned weakly. 

"Not bad," Ray muttered, then smiled at Benny wickedly and sat up. Fraser rolled over to watch, and stopped breathing. Ray stripped out of his sweats with his clean hand, put the other hand around his own gently unfurling cock and rubbed the semen into his skin. One stroke, another, and Ray's eyes rolled back. 

"Ray. Ray. Ray," Benny chanted with each stroke, not making noise, really, just mouthing that name as he reached out, needing to join his hand with Ray's. A few soft, slow strokes, and Ray let him take over, leaning back and watching with glittering eyes. 

"Do you believe I want you now, Benny?" Ray asked, eyeing his own eager erection with a wry smile. 

"Yes, Ray." A little. 

"Good." Ray put his hand on Benny's, stilling it, then leaned down for a kiss, then another, pulling Benny's hands up for more kisses, then settling between his legs, pressing his hard cock to his friend's softened one with a smile. Fraser's eyes asked questions, but the fear was at least momentarily gone, and Ray anointed each with a kiss. Then he kissed Fraser's nose, cheeks, chin, forehead, temples, nose again, lips...lingering...then his lobes and all around his ears. He started for Benny's neck, but was stopped short by a hesitant: 

"My turn." 

Ray smiled and sighed with pleasure, and as they rolled over carefully in the narrow bed, Ray's eyes were peaceful with love and satisfaction. 

Fraser regarded Ray's eyes a long moment, wondering yet again how well he now knew the man he loved and less than pleased with himself that Ray's new element of mystery only made Benny love him more. There was no question that Ray was aroused. The two of them were keeping the proof of that pressed tight into Benny's stomach. Yes, Ray loved him. His eyes, his gently stroking but passive hands, the set of his kiss-swollen lips showed that plainly enough. 

But it was somehow *not* enough when Benny had come so quickly, and was even now recovering like a teenager. It had been so long since Victoria, and so much longer since anyone before that. He was starving for this, and while Ray's eerie serenity no longer filled him with despair, it was nonetheless most unsatisfactory. 

Then Fraser remembered something, and with his own little smile bent his head to touch the tip of his tongue to the soft nub of Ray's left nipple. 

Ray gasped and the nub hardened instantly. 

Nuzzling through chest hair, Benny made his way to the other nipple, chuckling when Ray shivered and clutched at his shoulders. He kept his touch as gentle as he could, lapping at one nut-brown peak, then the other, back and forth until Ray was moaning and humping his stomach. 

Next, a soft line of bites down the concave stomach, licking the navel on the way, nose through soft, tickling hair that smelled of Ray and excitement and got him hurt-hard again. Pulling back slightly, he regarded Ray's cock with both desire and trepidation. It was all very well for him to complain that Ray didn't want this enough, but now his own inexperience with men was reminding him that he wasn't completely certain what to do next. 

It should be nothing to reach down and take Ray into his mouth, but it wasn't. Somehow something that seemed so easy and desirable in the abstract seemed so...extreme when it was right there in front of him. 

"You have a lovely penis, Ray," he said, half-stalling, half-wanting the intimacy of sharing his appreciation. 

Ray laughed and moaned together. "Thanks, I'm sure." 

"Long and a little thicker than I thought you would be." 

Ray grinned. "You thought about it a lot?" 

"Yes, Ray." 

Ray was going to say something else, but Benny saw to it that his tongue put a stop to that, what with gentle licks around the warm flesh of his testicles. Ray thrust with his hips, restrained himself visibly, and held out his arms. 

"Benny. Please. Up here." 

Sighing with relief and lust and something else that was nice, Benny moved up the bed and pressed up tight. Their movements against and toward, closer and closer, were instinctive and maddening, addictive, perfect. 

"Heaven," Benny gasped at one point. "Heaven, Ray." 

"God!" 

"That too." 

Ray strangled and choked on a laugh and came anyway. Benny followed, seeing stars and strangling on his own laughter when they began to burst into rockets. 

A moment, then another of perfect nothingness, of unmoving bodies, of an understanding so complete... 

Was this what Ray had wanted? Fraser got his eyes open, but Ray's were closed over a luxuriantly sleepy smile. 

"We should get cleaned up," Benny said. "Visiting hours." 

Ray made a noise of protest and wrapped his legs up around Benny's. 

"'Nother minute." 

And Fraser rested his head on a chest seemingly custom-made for his cheek and chin, breathing in the air and its heady scent: a witness to what had occurred just now in this quiet, clean room. 

@@@ 

"Fraser, it will look odd to have *all* the windows open." 

Benny flushed. "Ray...er...yes." He closed one window. 

Ray rolled his eyes. Oh well, it didn't matter. If Fraser thought the smell of sex was lingering despite thirty minutes of hurricane-force breeze, Ma and Frannie would doubtlessly just think the yawning windows meant the Mountie was missing the frozen north. 

"While I'm talking with Ma," Ray instructed gently, "you should feel free to answer whatever questions Frannie has honestly. You know, I trust you and I'll go along with it, okay?" 

Fraser stared at him. "Are you saying you think I should reveal our relationship to your sister? Today?" 

Ray nodded. "This is the time, I think. She's gonna ask about us, and I don't want you to lie. And it will be better for her to hear it from you." 

"What makes you think she's going to ask me today?" 

Ray shrugged. "Just have a feeling." 

Fraser nodded, but there it was again, that little thrill at the base of Fraser's spine, stronger this time than the times before, strong enough to be recognized as trepidation. Ray was beginning to scare him, causing a flavor of fear he hadn't tasted since he had looked into the eyes of a dark-haired woman who had wanted to posses him, along with some diamonds, and his soul. 

He had trusted Victoria, not much, but enough for her to come within a bullet's length of ruining his life. And now the man he trusted more than he did himself, more, even, than Diefenbaker, this man was becoming...something. And so now that it was clear to them both that wherever one went the other would follow... 

"Benny?" 

He looked into Ray's dark eyes. 

"Yes, Ray?" 

"Get Frannie to tell you if the Riv got damaged, okay? She keeps telling me there's nothing wrong with it, but she won't meet my eyes. If there's something wrong, I wanna know, you got it?" 

"Y-yes, Ray." 

Vecchio frowned. "What?" 

"Nothing, Ray." 

"Then what's with the smirk? Mounties don't smirk." 

"I think I hear your family now, Ray." 

Ray turned, his narrow eyes on Fraser until the last second, then braced himself for the body-slam hug of his mother in full flight. 

"Oh! Caro! Your last day in this awful place! The house has been so quiet without you!" 

"Ma, the kids ran into the coffee table last night and knocked over your glass bowl. Any more noise and we'd have needed parade permits." Frannie rolled her eyes at Benny. "Those little glass candies were everywhere. At first we thought Dief was trying to eat them, but he was just helping to clean up. He's so handy to have around...just like his owner." 

"Ah...yes. Thank you for looking after him, Francesca," Fraser said, watching as Ray finally, but gently, managed to pull back from his mother's arms. 

"Ma, this place ain't so bad, really." Ray's smiled was the full-blown Vecchio special: a match for fiery DAs and stone-faced lieutenants. His mother surrendered instantly. 

"I just want you to come home, Raymondo." 

"I know. What say we go for a walk?" 

Fraser watched Ray go without comment, then turned to look at his lover's sister, who was looking after Ray as well. She looked at the Mountie with puzzled eyes. 

"Is it just me, or did he just leave us alone together?" 

Fraser felt himself beginning to flush. "Well, Ray...that is...ah..." 

Frannie smiled at him, eyes lighting up, and Fraser felt sweat on his forehead. "Francesca, I...I mean to say...that is..." 

"Oh, Benton," she purred, moving just slightly closer. "You can tell me anything. You know that." 

"I'm glad to hear that! You see...ah..." 

She took another step forward, almost pressing again his chest, and put a hand on his arm. "Benton." 

"Er...yes?" 

"I've heard that near-death experiences can make people rethink their lives, reconsider...old choices." She blinked and smiled, then licked her lips and smiled. "So if you want to tell me that you and I --" 

"Ray and I are lovers!" 

Frannie looked at him. Fraser looked back. The moment passed, and they continued to look at each other. Both of them blinked. Frannie took her hand off his arm and stepped back. She rubbed her neck, and for once the gesture didn't emphasize the line of her tightly-wrapped and slim body. 

She looked at him some more. 

"Francesca --" 

She held out a hand, traffic-cop-style. 

"I just --" 

The hand insisted. 

"I thought there was something," Frannie muttered to herself, and Fraser would have responded had it not been so obviously a private conversation. Her dark eyes looked around, and Ray was right: suddenly the neatly made beds and open windows seemed to scream "Sex happened here!" 

She had been looking away from him for over thirty seconds now, and as she began to turn back Fraser braced himself for hatred, anger, amusement, dull horror, blank shock, murderous rage, philosophical acceptance, disgust, and/or a combination of any or all of the above. 

But he hadn't expected awe. 

"When you guys were both in comas, you talked to each other," she whispered. 

Fraser swallowed and nodded. He couldn't have spoken then even if Ray had told him to. 

"The doctors didn't pay attention, and Ma and Maria were always talking, but I stood there sometimes, between the two of you. Once, I heard you both saying something about Diefenbaker. Another time you both were talking about Heaven." She bit her lip, and talked around it. "Did you...see Heaven, Benton?" 

"No." He wanted to sit down after managing the word, but she was waiting for more. "But Ray..." He shrugged. 

She started shaking her head. "So...what...God told you guys to be gay?" Her voice was going up with disbelief and anger. 

"I...I..." 

"Spit it out, Benton. I'm a big girl." 

He blinked, cleared his throat. "I thought we were dead. We both did. We...we had to solve the crime of our deaths. The bomb." 

"I saw that on *Magnum!*" 

"Err...yes. So Ray said, I believe. I mean, that he saw it. I don't know whether he knows that you saw the --" 

"Benton!" 

"Yes." He felt his body going into parade rest. This was a report, after all, not so unlike any other report. "We needed to ascertain who had planted the bomb, and then, when we discovered that it was Carver, we needed to know whom he had hired to commit the crime on his behalf." 

Frannie was frowning, but it wasn't in rejection. "But Elaine and Detective Huey...did you tell them in a dream or something?" 

"Something like that. When we spoke to some people, we were able to reach their subconscious." 

"And you...managed to get things done that way?" 

"With Diefenbaker's help." Fraser colored slightly. "I'm afraid Ray and I saw you when you were alone in your house. We got Dief to get you to let him out the front door." 

"I remember that," she said slowly, then narrowed her eyes at him again. "What was I wearing?" 

Fraser blinked a few times, but replied easily enough, "A short navy blue skirt, a blue and red silk shirt, and low-heeled red shoes." 

She swayed, and ended up sitting on Ray's bed. 

Fraser took a breath. "I hope you can appreciate...Ray and I aren't going to share this story with many, perhaps only you and your mother. We have no desire to end up..." He spread his hands. 

She roused herself, and nodded. "So you're just going to go on with your lives like before?" 

"Actually, I do believe Ray intends to leave the police force. He has been quite altered by our experience." 

"Yeah, we kinda noticed that, Benton. Ma's talking with him now about it, in fact." Her eyes, finished with their elaborate roll, widened and stared at him. "Ray's not going to tell Ma about all this, is he?" 

"I have no idea. But I will support his choice, whatever it is." 

"Yeah, yeah, of course you will." She waved a hand and stood up. "Well, we'll just have to -- Hey! What were you going to say?" 

Fraser frantically searched his memory. "I don't..." 

"About Ray and Heaven." 

"Ah! Yes. Ray saw...or rather, smelled it. It was then that he became...as you see." 

"Ray got gay from smelling Heaven?" 

"No, no." Benny took a deep breath and gave himself a stern command to get on with it. "I don't believe Ray is, in fact, gay." 

She put a hand on her hip and seemed only barely to refrain from tapping her toe. 

"I believe, rather, that Ray is humoring me. You see, when we were dead, or so I believed, I took advantage of the situation to explain to him that I had been in love with him for some time." A smile wanted to get on his face. He had no idea if he managed to fend it off. "I was rather insistent about it, actually. I felt quite liberated by the knowledge that I was dead, that I was allowed to be selfish in resolving all of my...unresolved issues. Ray kept trying to focus on the crime we were investigating, but I..." He trailed off in the embarrassment of knowing the smile had won, and was currently gloating openly on his lips. 

Frannie's look was kind. "You finally got to say what was in your heart." 

"Yes." He took another breath and cleared his throat. "Ray explained that he loved me as well, but only as a friend. It was only after he almost opened the door to Heaven that he became comfortable with my feelings. I believe he believes that sexual orientation is too trivial to stand in the way of...other things." 

Frannie's eyes were a little moist now. She blinked a few times and cleared them, then shrugged. "He loves you with his soul." She smiled at Fraser's expression. "I heard him say so." 

"I...er...yes." The smile was gloating again. 

"Either that, or it was 'I was a little troll.' I wasn't sure which." 

Fraser was instantly ashamed of his snicker. 

"So." She leaned back slightly and crossed her arms. "If he has to go to some Tibetan temple somewhere and meditate for the rest of his life, will you go with him?" 

"I believe so. Yes." 

"I would have loved you with my soul too, Benton." Her eyes were damp again. 

"I would never have made you happy." 

She reached up and clapped him lightly on the shoulder, the way he had once seen her do to her brother, while he watched through the interview room window. 

"You would have made me close enough." 

And he could say nothing more as she walked from him and looked out the open window upon the hospital grounds. 

@@@ 

"So after that we just thought about who the hit guys would be, and it was easy. We were standing there in the apartment. Me and Benny went to the station and I yelled at Elaine until she put the name in the system and that was it for the bust." 

Ray ran hand over his head. He wanted to get his buzz cut again. The orderly he'd bribed for a shaver hadn't gotten a very sharp one. 

"It was Dief who got us to the hospital, so we knew we weren't dead. Then we got back in our bodies, sorta. I mean, I just thought about how I wanted to come back, and after awhile we woke up." 

A nurse wheeled some old guy across the rolling lawn. It was a big lawn, and it took a long time. 

"Ma?" He touched her shoulder, feeling the rough texture of the wool coat under his fingers, sharp and warm. 

Mrs. Vecchio startled slightly, the rosary in her hands swaying before she gathered the beads up in one fist. 

"Are you going to leave the church?" 

Ray blinked and sat up straight.. "What? No! Of course not, Ma. Yeesh. What gave you that idea?" 

She looked at him in concern. "When people see God these days, they end up leaving the church and founding some cult in Texas." 

Ray had to think about that one for a minute. 

"I couldn't live in Texas, Ma. Besides, Benny would melt." 

"You're not going to tell me the Catholic Church is wrong?" 

"About what?" 

"About Jesus. About salvation." Mrs. Vecchio was tense, her fist around her beads. "If all anyone has to do is walk through some door...well..." 

"Jesus said he was a door, right?" Ray shrugged. "Look, I'm Catholic and they were gonna let me into Heaven. You think I'm going to screw up a free lunch?" 

"Raymondo!" The tone was scolding, but Ray could see the laughter spark in her eyes before she closed them. 

"Ma, I'm not interested in changing anything like that." He turned and took her hands, making sure some of the beads wound up in his own hand. "I just want to be happy, okay? This really incredible thing has happened to me, and I gotta figure out what I should do with it." 

His mother looked at him in suspicion. "And it has to do with Benton?" 

Ray shrugged. "I think so. Why do you ask?" 

"You said he would melt in Texas. You and Benton..." But the question in her eyes remained unasked. Ray gave her a minute to let her make sure she couldn't, wouldn't ask, that she would never ask. Then he smiled. 

"Ma, me and Benny were walking around in the next world together. Two guys don't just agree to write letters and call on Christmas after that. I figure whatever I'm supposed to do, Benny's supposed to help me with it. And Benny feels the same way. I mean, I'm sure he'll stay a Mountie, and all, which is good, probably, considering what I'll lose when I stop being a cop." 

Mrs. Vecchio stared at her son. 

"Ouch!" Ray winced, pulling his hands out of the death squeeze of his mother's fingers and shaking them out. 

"I -- I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, but kept staring at him. "You're going to give up being a policeman?" 

Ray sighed. "Ma, I can't go back to that -- stakeouts and busting pushers and shooting at people." He laughed next. "In fact, I don't think I could do it, shoot someone, or even pull a gun on them. I'd try to talk them out of shooting me, and since I'm not Benny I'd end up dead. Which isn't something I want to do now even though I know it's not bad at all." Ray shook his head, clearing out his mouth. 

"Look, I know I done a lot of good as a cop, and I'm proud of my life, don't get me wrong. But you gotta be hard inside, Ma, or really good at faking it, to be a good cop - at least, the kind of good cop I know how to be. I'm too old to relearn the whole deal. I gotta figure out a new way to help people. Can you -- does that make sense to you, Ma?" 

She stared down at her hands so quietly. He put a hand on her shoulder, and only then realized it was shaking. 

"Ma?" 

"Oh, Raymondo!" She buried her face in her hands and cried. 

"Ma! Ma, I'm sorry!" His arms were around her, holding her to him as he cooed in distress. "I...I just gotta...oh, Ma...I'm sorry." 

She sat up, cupping his face in her hands, and said right through her tears. "No, no. You don't understand what a mother feels when her son, her beloved boy, goes out every day and might not come home again. You don't know how many nights I have worried about you, wondered if you even thought of what you might suffer, what might happen to you. Young men..." She broke off to sniff and rooted in her purse for a folded Kleenex. "They think they're untouchable, that they can dodge bullets. You would come home so tired, so hurt, and you didn't even notice. I worried about you so much." 

Ray's eyes took up half his face. "But you never said anything!" 

"What was I supposed to say? 'No, don't become a policeman? Stay with Zuko and the boys and turn into God knows what?'" She shook her head, wiping her nose. "I was proud of you. If you still wanted it, I wouldn't have said a word. But if you can be something else...Oh, Raymondo!" She started crying again. 

He just held her a long time, patting her warm woolen shoulder and thinking about the last years of his life, the over-night stakeouts, being shot in the shoulder, the bomb, shooting Benny, the Rivs, Carver's toys, and his mother never saying a word. 

Well, Ray reflected, she had let him know how much she worried. Maybe he just hadn't really listened to her before. 

Eventually, she straightened up to give him a kiss, wiped her face, and sat looking over the lawn with him. He'd need to get back to his room soon. 

"So," she said with a determination he knew so well. "What will you do instead?" 

Ray shook his head, running his hands over his head again. "Get a haircut." 

"Raymondo." 

He sighed now. "I don't know, Ma. I've been thinking about it, but nothing's jumping out at me, you know? I know I'm going to be better than ever at knowing things, at figuring things out, at being able to help people, and I'm trained to be a cop, but I can't do the politics and the tough-guy stuff anymore. I swear, one hooker in the tank and I'd probably be crying and buying her a bus ticket home. 

"I want to stay in Chicago, which means that everyone's still going to see a cop when they see me, which pretty much rules out any sort of counselor position, not that I'd be good at that sort of thing, anyway. I thought about just joining some charity organization, but what can I give to them? I know about busting bad guys." 

She sniffed quietly and wiped her nose again. "What about becoming a private investigator?" At her son's blank look, she raised her eyebrows. "With your own firm, you could choose your own cases, yes? And being a police officer would be a good thing. And you wouldn't have to carry a gun." She nodded in satisfaction. 

"I know on the television they're always showing some private eye shooting at people, and I think about my son on the force and what he would do to such a man. And Benton could continue to help you, just as he does with your cases in the police department." She smiled. "He will help you just with his uniform, yes? And he's such a nice young man. You could use him to make TV commercials for you." She put up her hands, the rosary swaying again. "Think of all the women who would call to have him check up on their husbands!" 

She sniffed again. "There is no need to laugh at me, Raymondo. This is a good idea I have." 

Ray wiped at his eyes and got his body to calm down. Damn, but he felt great. 

"It's a terrific idea, Ma. I love you. You're the best mother in the world." 

She allowed him to hug her and kiss her on the cheek. 

"You are a pretty good son as well, Raymondo." 

@@@ 

Fraser sat on his bed, trying to determine its precise level of discomfort. 

For him, all beds were uncomfortably soft for sleeping, though the bedroll was obviously lacking as a pallet for lovemaking. 

Next, he walked the length of his floor, noting the creaks, the uneven places no amount of sandpaper could put right. The walls were next, the shabby -- no other word would do -- fixtures, the tiny kitchen, the bare windows, the second-hand furniture, his father's trunk, the whiteness of the place. 

He liked it, but he still understood the words from his own mouth as he had surveyed his apartment while suffering from amnesia: *I live like this?* 

Everyone had asked that, upon first viewing these rooms. Everyone but Ray. Only Ray hadn't needed the answer of his silence: *Yes, I do live like this.* 

He found his hand was resting almost reverently on the kitchen counter. As he turned his head, he stared at the cupboards that held his candles. He could light them all now, for Ray. They would create wonders inside jade eyes. But Ray would object to the fire hazard. Perhaps just two on the table. 

"Benny!" Ray was home. 

No, Benton corrected himself. Ray was here. 

"Damn, it's cold out there." Ray took off his long black coat and threw it over one of Fraser's kitchen chairs, then rubbed his hands together and looked around. "Kinda chilly in here too." 

"I turned on the radiator approximately fifteen minutes ago, Ray. It should get warmer soon." 

Ray scowled. "Where you been?" 

"Walking." Saying goodbye. "How are things at the station?" 

"A little noisy and a lot nosey." Ray rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen to make them both coffee in the maker Ray had bought last night. Fraser found the intimacy thrilling. 

"Your resignation caused them concern, I'm sure," the Mountie offered. 

"Welsh told me to take a month off with pay and think about it." Ray threw a grin over his shoulder. "You should have seen Jack's face when I told him he could keep the snowglobe. Ha! They'd all put the stuff back on my desk. I gave 'em back what they had, near as I can remember, then cleaned the rest of my junk out. They were all wondering who the snitch was. Left the box in the Riv." 

Ray breezed out, headed for the restroom, and Benny realized he was smiling. 

Within a moment, the coffee was dripping, preparing for their first night together in his apartment after a full week of being apart while Ray slept in his own house and insisted everyone go visit family in Florida. Of course, Frannie had stayed to work at her new job, but then, apart from a vague coolness towards them both, Frannie was aiding and abetting them willingly enough. 

They'd made love in the afternoons, and the mornings, and lunchtime, but at night, laid out on his bedroll, Fraser had missed Ray's body next to his acutely, and when he had slept, had dreamed rather predictably of the sensation of sharing his bed all night with that slender length of restless heat...and the body attached to it. 

"You're smirking again, Benny," Ray mumbled as he appeared and gathered up the man in his arms to nibble-kiss his way up and down Fraser's neck. 

"Did you show Leftenant Welsh your private investigator's license, Ray?" 

"Yeah, even got him to say something non-committal about sending cases my way. He thinks it's a phase. I could tell when I left everyone's expecting to see me back at my desk next week." 

Fraser groaned as a hot tongue roughed up his earlobe. "I -- I think you'll still see a great deal of the precinct house in your new line of work, Ray." 

Vecchio's sigh went right into Fraser's ear, weakening his knees considerably. "I don't want to see it, Benny. I mean, it was great watching Elaine drop her teeth when I gave her a hug, and everybody was great, but, God, that place...it was hard, Benny." 

"I understand, Ray." 

Vecchio pulled back, revealing surprisingly anxious eyes. "Do you, Benny?" 

"Yes." Fraser's hand took the liberty of pleasuring itself over Ray's delicately curved skull. The new "buzz cut" tickled his palm delightfully. "I went by the Consulate today, Ray. Just for a moment. The sensation of being there was...disturbing." 

"You wanna quit, you wanna be a Mountie forever, you know I'm behind you a hundred percent, Benny." Ray's eyes were as serious and earnest as ever. Fraser grabbed the narrow hips and ground his hardness forward shamelessly, almost laughing with joy when Ray's eyes fluttered shut and his whole body started trembling. A week of lovemaking, however odd the hours, had taught him a great deal about exciting a certain Italian PI. 

Ray had been learning as well, as the firm two-handed grip on his backside confirmed. The husky moan, "You get me so hot, Benny," was an unexpected extra. 

"I bought something at the drugstore this afternoon." Benny winced instantly at his own words. So much for romance! And it was obvious Ray knew just what that "something" was by the way his body tensed up and his head drew back. 

"Yeah?" Ray's voice was a little breathy, but mostly hesitant. 

"If it's too soon, Ray, I understand." And Fraser only knew he didn't mean those words when Ray's eyes clouded with doubt. 

"I tried it once before, Benny." Ray shrugged around Benny's body. "She really liked it and all, but she'd been doing it for a while. I asked her about it, and she talked about enemas and lesions and stuff and I gotta tell you I almost threw up." 

Fraser blinked rapidly. "That does sound unpleasant, Ray." 

"But you still wanna do it." 

"Y-yes." 

Ray sighed. 

"I think of what it would be like to have you inside me," Benny murmured, then swallowed his next words as Ray shuddered and pressed against him. He could *feel* his lover's sudden heat against his body, focused on that insistent pressure. However, Ray's face was now buried in his neck. 

Fraser steadied himself, unaware that his shoulders were set guard-duty style. 

"I think of your strength caressing me intimately. I think of how much energy there is in you, how much passion and honesty and...you have such fury for life in you, Ray, so much that I have never had, never known. And all that could be inside me and -" 

"Oh, God, Benny. Shut up." 

With Ray's eyes still safely closed against the hot skin of his neck, Fraser smiled. 

"Does that mean 'yes,' Ray?" 

"That means I want to know exactly what you bought." 

Ray pulled away a few moments later, and Fraser did not let himself blush or stumble as he retrieved the small paper bag and poured out the half-dozen condoms and the tube of personal lubricant. A while went by. Ray looked up into his friend's sky-blue eyes. 

"It's the closest we can get without joining souls," Benny murmured, now at last blushing to his hairline. 

Ray rolled his eyes. "And I thought the Big-Eyed Mountie Look was bad." He threw up his hands. "And yes, that's a 'yes!' But let's ease into it a bit, okay, Benny? We got all night." 

"Certainly, Ray." 

"'Certainly, Ray.'" The man strode to the coffee machine, and Fraser just might have had his feelings hurt if he hadn't seen Ray's hands shaking while he poured the steaming liquid into his mug. 

He watched Ray drink, the curl of his lips when the steam reached his nose, the way his eyes closed when he took a sip, the long, slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, the slight relaxation along his slender frame, the glint of irritation in his darkened eyes. 

Startled, Fraser looked away quickly. 

Ray snorted and set the mug down, then rubbed his hands over his upper arms briskly and stomped over to the radiator, which he turned up. Then he stepped away from the windows and slithered out of his jacket, throwing Fraser a wink. 

The Mountie's knees went slightly weak. By the time Ray had picked up the tube and condoms and carried them to his father's trunk, Benny was sitting on the bed with his hands pressed between his knees. Which meant that when Ray abruptly straddled his lap, his hands were in quite the ideal position. 

Ray swooped in for a kiss, let it linger, and wriggled slightly. Benny felt sweat bead on his forehead. 

"Benny, you may end up on the bottom, but that doesn't mean you're supposed to just sit there like a lump." 

"Sorry, Ray!" With a flip, he had Ray on his back and was pressing kisses to his lips, to his cheeks, nose, eyes, temples. He would never, ever get tired of kissing Ray. 

"They must kiss in Heaven, at least," Benny murmured, then captured Ray's lips again before he could answer. A week's practice came to the fore as he shed them both of their clothes and then got Ray's body to lay over his own. 

Ray ended the latest kiss, his smile smug. "Good thing for you I'm so nervous, or this would already be over." 

"Don't be nervous, Ray." 

"Ha! That's easy for you to say." 

"Not really, Ray." 

Benny got another kiss for that., then a little series of them, long, slow, quick, hard, soft, deep. Ray's tongue was always so authoritative, confident in seeking pleasure. It was impossible to be coy or innocent when Ray was kissing him. Benny brought up his legs, caressing Ray's flanks with his thighs, and the strong, slender body above him began to shake. 

Ray swallowed and pulled back, sitting to the side and looking almost frightened. "You'd better roll over, Benny." 

Benny sighed luxuriously at the feeling those words gave him, but shook his head. 

"I don't want this if you don't, Ray." 

Vecchio laughed, a harsh, loud noise. "Roll over, Benny, or I'll roll you over myself." 

Fraser brought his hands down from Ray's chest and crossed his arms, eyebrows raised. 

Ray looked down at him, narrowed his eyes, then reached softly down to Benny's hard cock and stroked, teasing, finding that spot just there behind his testes, sliding a thumb into his slit, coaxing and spreading precum. Benny groaned and thrust mindlessly. The Mountie hadn't been the only one learning things about his lover's preferences in the past week. 

Ray squeezed slightly, then put a hand behind Benny's shoulder and pulled. In less than a second, the Mountie was on his stomach. 

"Ray..." The protest was too token to deserve any answer or to be repeated. Ray was covering his upper back in kisses and his lower back in soft, strong caresses that left him aching. Without thought he spread his legs and arched back, seeking. "Please hurry." 

"Shhhh, Benny." Ray's breath on his neck was warm, then cool. "You got me on a hair trigger here. Just lemme..." Fraser felt Ray reach for the tube of lubricant, heard the snap of the broken seal, waited forever until gel-cool fingers slid down the parting of his body, finding the ring of muscle that protected this entrance to his body. He tensed, fighting his own tension. 

A kiss on his spine. On his scar. 

"I almost..." Ray whispered. "You have no idea what that did to me. But you know, when you forgave me for that, I knew we'd make it through anything that came after." 

Fraser stifled a groan at the distraction, then wondered if Ray were doing this on purpose, for the slick finger teasing him pushed inside, and the pressure was uncomfortable in the extreme. 

"Benny, if you don't relax I won't do this." 

Fraser felt himself tense further in panic. "The body's responses to excitement are inconveniently similar to that to fear," he babbled. "I want you so much, we still haven't talked about it, about how I felt for so long, about how frightened I was that you would be disgusted by how I felt, that my dreams of kissing you...loving you...seeing your eyes soften as I touched you, as you touched me...oh, yes, Ray. That feels so good." His body began to push back against that penetration. He had never been more glad of the slender length of Ray's fingers. "Yes. Yes. Yes." 

"Doesn't hurt?" 

Fraser pressed his aching erection into the warmed bedcovers, sighing at the pressure there to match the sweet friction now inside. Ray had added another finger, slowly, gently, insistently. "Another source of heat, a new way to be loved." 

"Benny?" 

"To know it's you doing this to me, Ray. You have no idea. I can imagine so easily your eyes now, watching your own fingers move inside me. I'm so open now, and you can watch and I can let you. I could always let you see me, Ray. Every ugly true thing about me your eyes have witnessed and...ohhh...yet you still love me, Ray." 

"God, Benny." 

"Now, Ray. Please." 

Fraser felt Ray shift, reaching over him for a foil packet, felt the hot brush of Ray's cock on his oiled buttocks, brushed back against that hard pressure. "Hurry, Ray. Fuck me." 

Ray made a helpless strangled noise and shuddered, and heat splashed Fraser's lower back. Another splash, dripping hot and smelling of sex, and then Ray's body boneless over his, gasping and moaning disconsolately, stilled fingers inside him. 

"Ray?" Fraser felt disbelief cracking at his heart. 

"Damn...damnit, Benny. Why'd you...Aw, damnit. I'm sorry." Ray shifted down, his fingers twisting slightly as Ray reached Benny's lower back with his tongue. Hot, penitent swipes. "Don't worry. I'll be ready again soon." The warm, moist gust of his chuckle. "You got me acting like I'm sixteen, I swear to God." 

Fraser realized his eyes were squeezed shut. "You really want me so much, Ray?" 

"Ha! Benny, you got no idea." 

But Fraser thought he must have a good idea indeed, at last, as Ray spent the next few eternities licking and kissing his back, stroking him inside, fondling, petting, loving him. He almost couldn't bear it when finally Ray whispered a warning and nudged up against him. It was almost more than he could take not to come, not to scream and come, as he felt that pressure. 

Despite the prolonged preparation, however, it still hurt somewhat when Ray first pushed himself inside, and Fraser almost welcomed the pain-loss of pressure in his groin. Ray rested, not moving, and the stretched ache eased. 

"You made it, Ray." Fraser smiled into the pillow. 

"Noticed. Does it feel okay?" 

"Feels wonderful. Feels like something worth waiting forever for." 

Ray eased back slightly, and pushed forward. Exquisite. Another push, another, and they were starting to rock together now, a gentle rhythm, and then a new pressure white-hot to match the heat of their bodies, and everything smelled of sweat and semen and latex and the breath of Ray's gusts at his back. 

Yes, it was building now, and Fraser wasn't going to last long now, though he filled his mind with information about water currency marks...or was that currency water...marked with...something...oh. Oh. Oh! 

"Ray!" He came, gloriously, on and on, thrusting into the slipperiness of it, impaled on Ray's cock 

Ray was chanting his name, thrusting now, hands anchored at Benny's hips, groaning chants that broke, almost a scream. His name, choking almost. And then again that heavy, sweaty sprawl of Ray's weight, all arms and legs until Fraser felt woven into a cocoon, until there was only this one person in his entire world. 

Perfect. 

"Benny?" Ray's voice was mostly air. 

"Mm?" Oh dear, the effort of that small noise. 

"We don't have to move. We'll live here." 

"Mm? Mm...what, Ray?" 

"It would ruin it if you left, and you need to be helping them as much as they need your help. I'll have to learn to live with it." 

Fraser tried to get his neurons to fire better. He wasn't hearing this right. 

"I can see it," Ray was whispering now, his mouth mushing the words slightly as sleep stole upon him. "It's like you're in this stained glass window. If I took out the part that's you, it'd make everything break. Couldn't do it." Ray yawned and withdrew, drawing off the condom and tossing it in the trash. 

Fraser turned. "But Ray, I haven't said a word." 

"Saw it, Benny. When I came, you know?" Ray yawned again. "Very pretty window. I think I was in it too, somewhere." 

"Ray?" 

"Shhhh. Sleep now, Benny. We gotta go shopping tomorrow." 

"New bed?" Fraser lobbed the question like a dare...or a hand-grenade. 

"Mmm. And a rug. Your floor is cold. Now sleep." 

Benny looked into Ray's closed eyes and leaned forward, pressing himself against this man in his arms. 

"Ray? I would have left here for you." 

Ray half-opened his eyes. "And I'll stay for you." He nodded his head back to accept the kiss Fraser gave him, then closed his eyes with determination. Benny closed his own eyes and felt nothing short of bliss. 

"Oh, and we'll need to take the Gamez kid to the doctor in the morning." 

Fraser got his eyes back open, but Ray was mumbling and his breaths were evening out. 

"Why, Ray?" 

"Dunno. Sleep." 

Fraser got himself relaxed and ready for sleep again, though it was a long time coming. His bliss hadn't left him, though it was tinged again with disquiet. Ray still frightened him, perhaps more than ever, and the responsibility of their lives now was beginning to bear down with a completely new type of pressure. 

Then for a moment, it were as if Benton Fraser could see Ray's stained-glass window, or perhaps just the colors of its shadow on the floor, and each piece touched its neighbor in a May-dance spider's web, weaving out through the world and then back again, leading into the canopy of the unknowable future and then returning to cover him in the gentle cocoon of Ray Vecchio's warm arms. 

@@@ 

Epilogue 

They had put out stew from fresh meat and thick-cut vegetables with rice, the bowls steaming on the table. Darla had come in from the city, and her eyes were still wandering to the 'net-box on her wrist, checking for messages from work even though she said she'd taken vacation days. 

Most of the village was there, well-aware that the rest of the world would call them "quaint," even though they subscribed to the gateway and had 'net-boxes in their homes just like everyone else. Yes, they still preferred to catch and prepare their own food and make their own clothes and generally take care of themselves. If that made them quaint, at least they now "owned" the land according to white-man's law and the only visitors here came by invitation of man or spirit. 

Darla ran a hand through her city-cut hair and sighed, and the elders could only press their lips together for silence. This village daughter did not appreciate the honor the shaman was showing them this day, the same honor without fail he had shown them since that first day he had come to warn them of the early winter storm and help them save their modest harvest. 

The 'net had destroyed secrets, of course. They knew who he was, though in all fairness before he actually appeared before them they'd believed him to be an urban legend. 

"It won't matter," Darla said quietly to her mother, who flushed and looked around the room, beseeching everyone not hear those impatient words. "I'm marrying him no matter what this guy says." 

The silence stretched now until everyone was staring at the floor or their hands. Even Darla flushed now, and she spoke much more harshly than she wanted: "Dinner is getting cold." 

"I told you we were going to be late, Ray." 

"Yeah, yeah, Benny. So I was supposed to just leave him there? He needed directions." 

"And the fact that he was standing right in front of a store display where all the vids were showing the baseball scores had nothing to do with it, I suppose." 

"Benny, you're hurting my feelings here. What smells so good?" 

They were all on their feet now, staring at the men in the doorway. Robert Tangtree was known to the shaman best and was shaking his hand, talking of the new children and of the fire. 

"God," Darla muttered to herself, thankful to have the attention turned from her, but frowning at what she saw. "They're ancient." 

The bald one -- the shaman -- wore surprisingly stylish clothes, chosen with taste and care. They even hung well from his slender frame. Looking only at them, one might think the man to be in his forties. But his body was stretched skin and wrinkles, and his shockingly lovely green eyes...Darla shivered...even without the crow's feet, they looked about a thousand years old. Surely the man had passed the century mark long ago. 

His husband was the same, except that he was totally different. His pure white hair grew thickly, his blue eyes were still pretty, and his clothes were all rugged mountain man stuff. He still had his Mountie hat. Amazing. There weren't even Mounties any more, but everyone knew about the hat. 

But otherwise he was just as old and wrinkled and...still strong, bursting with health the way some people were until they drifted off to dead in their sleep. 

"And this is Darla," Robert was saying now, and she steeled herself. "She's marrying a man from the city." 

"And you wanna know if it's gonna be happy, huh?" the shaman asked. His eyes twinkled at her, and she bristled. It only made the twinkle brighter. "Can't you wait and see for yourself?" 

"My father is dying." She winced inside at her own words, but they were the truth and this wasn't her idea. "I'm his only child. He says he needs to know before he can find peace." 

The shaman shrugged. "Okay. After dinner, right?" 

And with no more preamble they sat at the tables and ate. Everyone had questions for the shaman and his husband. Darla ate her stew and met no one's eyes. 

After the meal, there were a few more words, then someone nodded and the shaman was led with his spouse to Robert's house. Then everyone withdrew to their homes and Darla had to keep herself from running back to her room. Thank God her 'net-box was beeping, her inbox was full. 

Fraser watched the woman until she was out of sight, then stared after the turn in the road a long moment more. 

"It's difficult to see how we can help her, Ray." 

"So maybe we don't." Ray walked into the house and pulled Benny in after him. The door closed, then Ray was shedding his zip-clean-only clothes down to his crucifix and walking to the -- as he remembered -- nicely firm bed. 

In only a few seconds they were in Ray's favorite position. After all, they'd gotten into Benny's personal favorite last time. Fair was fair. 

It was easy, lying here on his back, to reach up Benny's smooth chest and tweak those sensitive nipples. His hands knew this body so well now, knew how to excite it, how to soothe, how to drive the man insane. He fluttered over hot spots and sucked on the callused fingers in his mouth, letting them go with a slurp before they headed south. 

He thought suddenly of all the brands of lubricant they'd used over the years, fiercely loyal to first this product, then that. Of course, not too long into their relationship they really hadn't needed lubricants anymore, unless they were feeling ready for a hot-and-hard session. And now for years they'd used nothing more than spit and precum. 

"You're thinking practical thoughts," Benny accused. 

"I'm thinking of how much I love that we've been together forever. Did I have any sort of life before you came into it?" 

"I didn't." 

Ray moaned, spreading his legs wider, welcoming his husband inside. They'd been married in five separate ceremonies all together. The third one had made it legal in all courts, the fourth had appeased a western tribe. The last had been for their diamond jubilee anniversary. They'd done it in Vegas. Ray still had the disc. 

God, he loved this. He loved kissing Benny, and touching him, and sucking and being sucked, and letting his tongue go everywhere, and fucking him, but this was the best. Even now Fraser could sometimes wonder if Ray's love were still as passionate as it had been during those early, somewhat turbulent years. Ray loved to show him, and despite the years and years, Benny still got that look of wonder in his eyes when he was deep in his husband's heat. 

Yes, there it was. And the pleasure was white and burning bright, trying to distract him with visions of Darla's marriage. Three kids. That ought to keep Grampa happy, though his visions weren't guarantees, never had been. Just suggestions that had a habit of coming true. 

Oh, screw the vision. Benny was fucking him now with piston-hips and it was incredible, incredible to be loved like this. Heaven here on Earth, that's what he'd found in turning from that door, because Benny had been there. 

"Love you...Benny." 

"Ray!" A hoarse cry. 

"Benny. God. Benny." 

"Ray?" 

The man opened his eyes. Diefenbaker was breathing his face. 

"Ray?" Benny's voice behind him was so deep and pure. 

Wait. 

Diefenbaker? 

Ray shook his head and sat up. Benny's apartment, his now too, with the new bed and rug and icebox. Ray even had a small TV hidden in the closet, for the game. 

He turned, and his heart just about jumped out and danced on the floor. Benny was looking at him in the moonlight, his smooth face and kind eyes so beautiful Ray couldn't breathe. 

"Are you all right, Ray? You were moaning. Were you having a nightmare?" Despite the concern, a smile was curling Benny's lip. Even Mounties knew men moaned in their sleep for all kinds of reasons. 

Ray bit his lips and pulled down the sheet. That young, strong body, young like it should be, young like it would always be in his mind. Ray put his hand right to that spot under Fraser's ribcage and scratched lightly. 

Benny sucked in a breath, his mouth making a little O of surprise, and Ray laughed. Oh yeah, he knew his Benny... 

"Think we could make it to our diamond jubilee anniversary, Benny?" he asked, leaning down for a kiss. He was really going to surprise his lover in a minute. Where was the KY jelly? 

Benny stretched and sighed, his face alight in simple happiness. "Sounds like...you know what it sounds like, Ray." 

Another kiss, then Ray laughed. 

"Yeah. I know all right." 

**THE END**

Dead Wrong 102 


End file.
